


The Ghost of Iwatobi High

by J_L_Hynde



Category: Free!
Genre: Bullying, Developing Friendships, F/M, Female swimmer - Freeform, Free! Eternal Summer Spoilers, Free! Iwatobi Swim Club spoilers, MC is mistaken for a ghost, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Romantic Friendship, School Comedy, Team as Family, Teenage Dorks, scaredy cat Makoto
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-07-13 19:08:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16024127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_L_Hynde/pseuds/J_L_Hynde
Summary: “Akamatsu, Sadako is the ghost of Iwatobi High School. She haunts classroom 2-C and if you look into her eyes for more than three seconds you’ll be cursed with misfortune…” I wasn’t sure how that rumor got started, but I’m just a normal girl. And my name isn’t Sadako –it’s Sawako.





	1. Water Spirit

Four girls walked down one of the many corridors of Iwatobi High School on their way to class. It was the first week of a new school year, so this group of first-years was still adjusting to high school life and the ways of Iwatobi. They were in the middle of a very heated discussion.

"The Ghost of Itwatobi High? What's that?" One girl asked, the question carrying down the hall to my ears. I didn't know her personally, so her name was a mystery to me. But she was cute, at least that's the word I thought best described her, with a petite and slender frame and her hair, dyed a pale blonde, and layered into a chin length bob.

Her friend, a tall broad-shouldered girl with long brown hair, replied. "It's a legend here on campus. Akamatsu, Sadako is the ghost of Iwatobi High School. She haunts the classroom of 2-C and it's said that if you look into her eyes for more than three seconds, you'll be cursed with misfortune…"

"Yeah, I heard some stories about it," a third girl with short black hair and red glasses added. "It was during the entrance ceremony last year that a student from class 3-A saw her and he immediately had to be hospitalized."

The blonde looked horrified as she looked between her two friends. " _Kowai._ That's so scary!"

"–And there's been a dozen or so reported sightings since!" The second girl said excitedly. "You know Yuki-chan, well, she saw the ghost on the way to the cafeteria and came down with a cold three days later. They say she's the spirit of a girl from class 2-C that hung herself twenty years ago and now is stuck wandering the halls; forced to live out her school days over and over again. How cool is that?"

"No way that can be real," The last girl, a burnet with a ponytail, interrupted. "If it were, we'd be hearing these stories for more than just a year. And I'm pretty sure that Akamatsu, Sadako is just a second-year in class C. I saw her name on the class lists when they were first up. If she were a ghost, then why would the teachers put her name on the list?" She asked.

I agreed wholeheartedly with the last girl. Nothing about that ghost story made any lick of sense. And I should know, considering that I am Akamatsu, Sadako. Well, actually my name isn't Sadako; it's Sawako. There was a misprint during my first-year and the name just sort of stuck before it could be corrected. I wasn't sure how the whole ghost rumor got started. But if I had to take a guess, it probably started on the first day of my first year with that misprinted name.

From that day on, I was labeled the ghost girl – _Sadako –_ the girl from the  _Ring_ trilogy. That thought made me sigh. I used to love those books, but I haven't been able to enjoy them since I got stuck with that nickname. The four girls continued to discuss the possibility of the school being haunted, totally unaware of my presence. One of them, the burnet with the ponytail, started fiddling with her bag and in the process dropping her red mechanical pencil on the floor. It rolled a couple of times toward my feet and I stopped walking to retrieve it.

"Umm… excuse me," I said my voice wavering as I called out to the girl. The girls stopped and turned to look at me. I tried to shape my face into what I felt was a friendly expression and held out the pencil, "I think you dropped this."

Apparently, my expression wasn't as friendly as I thought it was because no sooner were those words out of my mouth and the girls in question were hightailing it away from me. The owner of the pencil calling out over her shoulder, " _Sumimasen!_ You can keep it!" Then all four of them disappeared down the hall, leaving me to stand there like an idiot watching them go.

Well, that just happened. Again.

I looked down at the pencil in my hand. "But I guess, I got a free pencil now." So there's a bright side.

…

For some reason, people are always afraid of me. I don't want them to be. I just want to make one friend at this school. Nevertheless, I'm in my second year and so far the only person I can get to talk to me for more than three seconds is my homeroom teacher; Amakata, Miho. So I need to start being realistic. Me finding a friend was impossible.

It didn't matter how much I tried to be friendly or tried to talk to the other students, not if they kept running away before I could get a word in edgewise. So I just decided that I was going to focus on my studies and not worry about a social life. It was easier that way too; way less drama. And to be honest, I didn't mind the solitude. As long as I had a decent book and my MP3 player, I was good.

Since the weather was warming up, I decided to take my  _bento_  outside to eat. I really like early spring in Japan. The  _sakura_  trees were so pretty to look at and the campus had a group of them planted near the in-ground swimming pool. They provided the perfect amount of sun and shade and it was the place that I liked most to each my lunch. Today I also decided to work on my Geometry homework while I ate, figuring that multitasking would save me some time when I got home.

I worked through the problems carefully. Using my graphing calculator to double-check each problem before I proceeded to the next. And it was no time at all before I had finished the first page and had to move on to the back. I popped open my binder and slipped the sheet out so I could flip it over to write on the back.

Suddenly, the gentle breeze that I had been enjoying picked up and blew the paper out of my hand along with several pages of my Geometry notes. I quickly tried to reach from them, though I wasn't fast enough, and the wind carried these pages high up into the air, over the tall chain-link fence, dropping them limply into the pool. "Oh, no!" I wailed quickly closing up my binder and  _bento_  box and quickly sprinting around the fence to the gate that led inside.

I stopped by the pool's edge, looking on in despair at my ruined homework and math notes floating on the surface of the water. Turning around to search for something to fish them out, I spotted a pool skimmer propped up by the fence and quickly snatched it. If I moved fast enough I might be able to salvage them before they sink to the bottom.

I skimmed as out as many pages as I could and laid them out to dry on the cement. I was in the process of reaching for the last page when I lost my footing and fell, head first, into the water. My first thought was how cold the water was. There was a reason why the swim club wasn't currently using the pool. My second thought was  _'Crap I forgot to hold my breath!'_  and was by far the loudest.

Luckily, I was in the shallow end of the pool and was immediately able to stand up; coughing all the while. My uniform was soaked, my long black hair covering my face, and the sheet of paper sitting atop my head. I was still holding onto the pool skimmer, so I guess that's something. But sometime between me falling into pool and me popping back out, a group of people had arrived at the scene to see me in this incredibly embarrassing situation.

The Iwatobi swim club had become something of a hot topic since it was established last year. Being such a new club, no one had expected the members to make it as far as regionals. Their unusual member recruiting tactics –anything from manga-style flyers, to Iwatobi mascot keychains, and the latest stunt at the entrance ceremony where each of the members displayed their charm-points –had become somewhat of a running joke. What I found surprising, though, was that no one had joined since they'd gone to regionals. I thought for sure that someone would've, but so far nothing.

I peered up at them through the wet strands of my hair. Four boys and one girl stared back with equal looks of confusion and downright terror. Did I really look all that scary? It was something that I'd been wondering for a while.

"It's a  _kappa_!" One of them exclaimed taking a step back and pointing at me. "A  _kappa's_ in the pool."

Kappa? That's a new one. Still, not sure if it's a step up or down from ghost, however. I pushed my hair out of my eyes, which only seemed to make matters worse.

"What are you saying, Makoto-sempai?" Asked one of the other boys nervously. "That's not a  _kappa_. Water spirits don't wear school uniforms…" He didn't look like he believed what he was saying as he trailed off and looked at me. I stared back unsure of what to do. "–at least I don't think they do."

My eyes flickered over to Makoto-sempai, a tall boy with sandy brown hair and bright green eyes, and opened my mouth to speak. "Umm… I'm not a – Achoo! – _kappa,_ " I said around a sneeze.

That seemed to break them out of their trance. I guess, the sneeze humanized me or something because the girl stepped forward and offered me her hand. "Here, you should get out of there before you catch a cold," she grabbed my hand and helped me out of the water.

* * *

As it turned out, the swim club wasn't so bad. Not that I was expecting them to be or anything like that. But I didn't think they would go out of their way to get me a change of clothes –supplied by Matsuoka, Kou "–Kou! Not Gou," she had said –and help me try to salvage my homework by hanging the pages up to dry and turning on a portable fan. Kou's gym clothes were several sizes too big on me, and I had to roll up the pants a couple times so they'd fit. I wasn't tall or even average height like she was. I was short 152 centimeters; meaning that everyone else towered over me.

And this was especially true with the swim club's president, Tachibana, Makoto, whose height of about 183 centimeters made me look like a small child. Despite his height, the older boy was hardly imposing as he looked down at me. I could tell that he was more of a gentle-giant type; what with his soft green eyes and a smile that radiated friendliness.

"So your math homework fell into the pool and you fell in trying to retrieve it?" He summarized after I explained how I ended up in the pool.

"Yes. I'm kind of a klutz," I admitted embarrassed. "Sorry if I startled you."

Makoto shook his head, "No. I should be apologizing for thinking you were some kind of water demon. That was rude of me."

He was so nice. I don't think I'd ever had someone apologizing for assuming things and I honestly didn't expect them too. I knew that, at least on some level, that I bared a striking resemblance to the ghost, Sadako. My short stature made me look at lot younger than I was and combined with my long straight black hair and pale skin; it was no wonder people avoided me. "It's alright," I said.

"Wait! I know who you are," one of the other boys blurted out. "You're the ghost, right?  _Akamatsu, Sadako –_ we're both in the same class." He did look familiar. There weren't many blonds in my class. But I wasn't good at remembering names.

Makoto froze and turned toward the other boy. "Ghost?"

He nodded. "Yeah. It's this story that started last year at the entrance ceremony. Apparently, Okimoto Tadashi had to go to the hospital because he got a concussion. When he got back he claimed he was attacked by a ghost. After that, stories started to become more frequent and now it's practically an urban legend!"

"–It's a misunderstanding!" I blurted out, not liking where this conversation was headed, "I didn't attack anyone. I was only trying to ask him for directions. But I guess I startled him when he saw me and he slipped on the floor, that had been mopped, knocking himself out cold. I'm not a ghost nor can I see them or talk to them or anything like that."

It was the first time I was ever able to clear up that misunderstanding. No one had ever stayed this long for me to correct them and I was grateful that I finally got the opportunity. Everyone was quiet for a few seconds, then the air shifted and whatever tension arose evaporated instantly when Makoto started to laugh.

"I'm sorry, Akamatsu-san," he chuckled. "It's just that story – _pft…_  how can such reputation be derived from that?" His eye sparkled with mirth, while he looked down on me.

Meanwhile, the blond boy pouted. "Aww…really? I was hoping the school was hunted, but I guess it's just a normal high school."

He looked so disappointed. I couldn't deny that going to a hunted high school would be kind of fun; if you were into that sort of thing. Then to find out it wasn't being similar to finding out that Santa Clause was just your fat uncle Charlie wearing a beard. "Sorry," I said.

"That's not something you need to apologize for," said another boy, with blue hair and glasses. He looked familiar too and I thought his name was Ryu-something-or-other.

"Hey, Sadako-chan!" The blond called out causing my eyes to flicker over to him. "Are you in any clubs?"

"No, I'm not," I replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Then would you like to join the swim club?" He asked. "If you join, you'll get this Iwatobi mascot keychain!" He held up a wooden keychain that looked like a baby chicken crossed with a penguin and talons like an eagle. The tiny figurine was painted a bright yellow with a tiny blue Speedo. It was cute, in an offbeat sort of way.

"Nagisa-chan! No one wants that thing," Kou yelled.

The blond, Nagisa, turned waving the keychain around in her face. "Why not? It's cute! And Haru-chan spent a lot of time making these. The least we can do is give them out."

From the corner of the room, the boy that had been strangely quiet throughout this whole incident finally spoke up. His deep blue eyes sparked resolutely as he looked over to Nagisa. "I told you not to call me  _Haru_ - _chan,"_  he said.

I didn't know what to say to anything going on in front of me. How did my day turn out like this? I just wanted to do my homework during lunch. It wasn't that I was opposed to joining the swim club or anything like that. I could swim just a well as the next person, however, I didn't know the first thing about competitive swimming. Also, I wasn't very athletic as most of my time was spent hold up in my room reading, playing video games, or sketching on my drawing tablet. But these people were the first friendly faces I had met since I'd moved to Japan a year ago. It'd be pretty stupid for me to throw away this opportunity to make friends.

"I-I'll do it. I'll join," I said nervously twisting my hands in my lap.

"Really? You will?" Makoto looked at me in disbelief. I guess, they really didn't get many people interested in the club.

"Yes." Then releasing an uneasy breath of air, I continued, "Although I'm not athletic and I don't know anything about competitive swimming."

Haru fixed me with a level stare. "But can you swim?"

I nodded.

"Then that all you need to know!" Nagisa responded loudly, "We can teach you the rest." He walked over to me and placed the Iwatobi keychain in my hand. "As promised, one mini Iwatobi-chan for you," he winked. The little bird stared up at me from my hands and for a second I thought it was almost smiling. So now I've joined the swimming club and something told me that my life was about to get a lot more exciting, but I couldn't find it in myself to care. And I didn't even look up when Kou yelled.

"No one wants that stupid keychain!"

I did though. I wanted it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this first chapter. I got this idea in my head because I was watching Free! and Kimi ni Todoke at the same time. And I thought to myself what if someone like Kuronuma Sawako was in Free! and one thing leads to another and this story idea was born. In a way, it's kind of a crossover as my Sawako is based on that character, although they're not exactly alike.
> 
> I'm not exactly sure where I'm going with this. I'm thinking about making it a possible Rin/OC story, but it could also turn into a Makoto/OC or a Nagisa/OC too. Until I decide what pairing I want to do, I'm just not going to put pairings. Nonetheless, I am open to suggestions so if you guys want a particular pairing you can put it in the reviews.
> 
> Please leave any thoughts, suggestions, or critiques in the comments. Constructive criticism is always encouraged and sought after by me.


	2. Classmates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sawako thinks about home and meets two familiar faces on the train.

"Sawako, are you all packed?" My mother's voice carried over from our medium sized kitchen as I came down the stairs. In my hands, I held my two carry-on bags, one a small suitcase and the other a new duffle that I had got specifically for this trip. Setting the bags down by the front door, I looked around my childhood home knowing that I probably wouldn't be seeing it again for at least a year. I was a bit sad thinking about it.

This had been my home for as long as I could remember. Each room was filled with memories; from the doorway where mom marked my height as I grew to the tropical aquarium where my clownfish, Tolkien, swam that I had gotten for my twelfth birthday. Our white Persian cat, Fatty, lounged idly on the tile floor by the stairs, sunbathing, and I leaned down to run my fingers over her soft fur.

"Morning, Fatty," I said scratching her behind the ears. She purred softly and leaned against my touch, stretching her body out and rolling on her back for a belly rub. "You're such a weird cat," I said patting her soft belly twice before standing up.

"Sawako." My mother called again.

My attention snapped to the kitchen doorway where my mother stood. Watabe Ume, or Ume Fairchild as she was now known, bared little to no resemblance to me. Growing up, I was told that I looked just like my dad which was true; I had his short stature, dark hair and eyes and both our faces seemed to be permanently frozen in what many would call a death glare. My mother, contrariwise, was tall –much taller than was normal for people from Japan – at 5'7 ft she really stood out in a crowd, she had light brown hair that was cut into a short pixie, and her eyes were a golden honey color. About the only thing we hand in common was our complete lack of figure.

"You're a bit distracted today," she observed smiling.

"Yeah," I nodded absently looking around the room.

Mom's smile dropped slightly as I did this, then as quickly as I looked back she was smiling again. She probably hoped I didn't see that. "Well, breakfast is ready, so come eat." She said and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Following after her, I was immediately struck with the thought that this would be the last time we would have breakfast together. At least until December rolled around; which was nine months away and seemed like a lifetime. So much could happen in nine months. I sat myself down at the table and stared at the copious amount of food that sat there. From the looks of things, she had been cooking from early this morning because there was no way she would've been able to make that big of a fruit salad and fry that many eggs unless she had. "Mom," I sputtered, "you didn't have to make so much food. I would've been fine with poptarts."

At my words, she spun around wielding a metal spatula and a plate of unidentifiable breakfast food. "You're not going to eat poptarts on the day you're taking off to Japan," she said. "You need something more substantial and those things are only filled with sugar. I won't allow it!" Her eyes were firm and I knew there was no arguing with her.

"Yes, ma'am," I replied breaking eye contact and letting my hair fall forward.

"Aww—geez," she sighed as she turned off the skillet, setting the plate down on the table, then taking a seat next to me, "what's with this ma'am business? It makes me feel old. A thirty-two-year-old woman should not be called ma'am by her own daughter. I mean I was about your age when I had you…"

"–Sorry," I said, knowing how much my mother hated to be called ma'am.

There was a beat of silence, then as if a switch had been flipped, mom broke out into a fit of giggles. "I'm only teasing you,  _Zashiki Warashi_. I'm a mom I get to do that," she smiled and pushed the plate of eggs towards me. I had to smile too at the familiar pet name.

 _Zashiki Warashi_ , or guestroom child, was something my mother had called me since I was very small. As I understood it, in Japan  _zashiki warashi_  were little ghouls that inhabited homes and brought good luck; taking the shape of a small child with bobbed hair and a red face. Up until I was about eight or so, I had always worn my hair in a bob and I guess I reminded mom of them. Not that I minded because she'd always said that I was her good luck charm.

"Come on, eat," Mom urged already putting food on my plate without asking. She set about sliding about three fried eggs on my plate, then scooping out a generous amount of fruit salad, then picked up the plate of food she had been carrying before. I couldn't tell what it was, but it looked like long rolls of bacon that seemed to be stuffed with something. "And look at these!" she excitedly started placing the things in front of me, "I came up with these this morning! I call them oinkers!"

"Oinkers?" I wondered picking one up and examining it.

Mom seemed proud of herself as she nodded. "Yep. It's like pigs in a blanket only better! I took a sausage, wrapped it in a pancake and tied it together with bacon. And then you dunk them in maple syrup," she explained. "It's the ultimate breakfast food!"

Her face was stretched into a Cheshire cat-like grin that frankly made her look both ridiculous and little scary. I wasn't sure whether to laugh or say something about it. Although, I ended up not doing either of them when I looked at my plate and realized that my mom had precariously stacked about ten oinkers on it prior to adding one more spoonful of fruit salad to the heap. This resulting in a huge pile of food no one, much less me, could possibly eat in one sitting; not unless I was someone like Dwayne – _The Rock_ –Johnson. "Mom!" I yelled exasperated, "I couldn't possibly eat this much food."

She didn't say anything at first. But then I heard a telltale sniffle coming from her side of the table. My head snapped up to see my mother –still in the process of scooping out yet another helping of fruit salad –staring back at me with tears in her eyes. "I know. But please –please just let me have this, Sawako. Just for today," she whimpered. It wasn't uncommon for my mother to shed a few tears –it was tactic she used a lot to get her own way –however, I knew this was different because it was today of all days and she'd never try to hold back her tears unless she was genuinely upset.

And me being me, couldn't stand to see her cry without breaking out into tears myself. "We agreed," I said dapping at my eyes, "no tears."

"I – _sniff –_ can't help it. My baby's leaving me…"

"Mom, I'll – _hiccup –_ be b-back in n-nine m-m-months," I replied. By now neither of us were able to hold back the waterfall of tears we'd stored up; the dams breaking and the emotions we'd been holding back coming to the surface.

"W-who am I-I g-gonna m-mock t-t-the Kardashians w-with?" Mom sobbed clutching me to her.

I was past the point of comprehensible speech; we both were. So when I spoke, I meant to say something along the lines of, "There's always Laurel next door." Laurel being the daughter of our neighbors Mr. and Mrs. McKinley, only a couple years older than I was, and was the only person I'd really consider a friend. What came out of my mouth, however, was slurred beyond belief making me sound like Jabba the Hut. "Theeee—whaaaa—baaa—Laurel!"

Meanwhile, this was the time my step-father George chose to make an appearance. "Okay, so I've put all the bags in the car…" He stopped and took one look at my mom and I clutching each other in a death grip, while we both wailed at the top of our lungs. I imagined we looked like a couple of toddlers throwing a tantrum. Then pushing up his horn-rimmed glasses and sheepishly brushing his blonde hair from his forehead, he asked. "What's going on here?"

Mom lifted her from my shoulder and managed to get out four words. "Sawako. Leaving. Japan. Today."

That only made George more confused. And I could practically see his thoughts as he looked off to the side.  _'Women. There's no understanding them.'_

* * *

Homesickness was something I had become accustomed to. Japan, as much as I liked the country, wasn't home. And on more than one occasion, I found myself missing the crystal blue waters, tropical reefs, and white sandy beaches of Hawaii. But more than anything what I really missed was my mother and George.

Of course, I talked to them occasionally on the phone or skype and exchanged constant emails with my mom. In reality, I talked to them almost every day, still, it wasn't the same. Being an entire ocean apart was hard. I couldn't listen to George go on and on about migratory patterns of birds. I couldn't go surfing with Laurel. (Despite the fact, that I wasn't any good at it and I ending up wiping out more times than actually standing on the board.) Nor could I eat any more of my mother's bizarre culinary creations.

It's funny how being away made me miss things like that.

I watched the scenery blur past the window and stifled a yawn. I had overslept again. I didn't mean to, truly I didn't. But at some point last night I got too absorbed into my drawing and ended up passing out at my computer desk. Fortunately for me, my dad was home this morning and wound up waking me up at  _07:15_ ; which left me with just enough time that I could still catch the train as long as I rushed through my morning. So it went without saying that my appearance was disheveled as I tried not to fall asleep on the stranger standing next to me.

That's another thing… what was with public transportation being so crowded? I've lived in Japan for a year, so I should've been used to it by now. But every time I board one of the many trains I find myself overwhelmed by just how crowded the country actually is. (Or maybe it seems that way because I grew up on a little island where there weren't that many people.) In the city, like Tokyo for example, a hundred people are packed into a space that really only meant to hold about fifty. Iwatobi, being a rural fishing town, isn't much better; packing about sixty-five people in each car during rush hour.

As a result, my face was pretty much smashed into the window.  _'I really hope they clean these…'_

" _–dako-chan!_ Sadako-chan!"

That voice…I recognized it. My head turned and I immediately picked out a familiar blond in the crowd of people. It was my classmate Na…umm wait.  _What was it again?_   _Na…na…na –Batman! Dang it!_ I can't remember his name.

This is bad. This is really, really, bad. Maybe I can pretend I didn't see him, except he's coming over here and that other guy is with him –the one with the blue hair and red glasses –and I don't know his name either. I was about near panicking at this point, looking for some way to avoid my impending embarrassment. Because I would be embarrassed about not remembering their names when they so obviously remembered mine, or what they thought was my name. But this train was too crowded and I was stuck, literally cornered by the doors, with no way to weasel my way through the mass of bodies surrounding me and I had no idea how what's-his-face was doing it.

 _Abort. Abort. Abor– "Ohayou_  Sadako-chan," the blond chirped stopping in front of me. His magenta eyes flickered briefly in the sunlight, instantly reminding me of the pink hibiscus flowers that grew by my childhood home.  _'Pretty.'_

" _O-Ohayou,"_  I replied unconsciously fidgeting my hands. I couldn't get away with calling them dude, could I? Probably not. "Umm… I'm sorry. But I'm not so good at remembering names."

The blue-haired boy adjusted his glasses, similarly to how George did when he was nervous. "Ryugazaki Rei, second-year. We're in the same class, I sit directly behind you," he said.

Ah, that's embarrassing. I couldn't even remember the name of the person sitting behind me. "S-so sorry, Ryugazaki-kun. I'll be sure to remember now," I blushed leaning forward slightly so my hair would shield my face.

"It's alright. We haven't really spoken to each other before now," he responded scratching the back of his neck, awkwardly. He's really nice too.

"And I'm Hazuki Nagisa! But you can call me Nagisa, if you like." The blond interjected, enthusiastically. "I sit behind Rei-chan, so don't feel bad if you didn't notice."

They're both nice. "Okay.  _Arigatou,_  Nagisa-kun," I said his first name as he requested and instantly his face lit up. It was really something how he was able to smile a 100-watt smile like that. It was almost blinding. ' _I see stars…_ '

"I didn't know you took this train," Nagisa began conversationally.

"I don't usually. But I kind of overslept this morning and missed my usual 07:15 train," I told him.

"Ah, I see. So you get to school really early," he nodded, "Now that I think about, you are always the first one in homeroom. Why is that?"

There were several answers to his question. The first being that the 07:15 train was typically less crowded than the 07:45 train. Second, I liked to take my time in the morning before classes and draw in my sketchbook. But overall, the earlier train was just easier for me because I was able to have time to fully wake up before class. "I like to get to school earlier because it's peaceful," I explained, "In the morning, there aren't many people so it's quite."

"And you like quite?"

I nodded. "I've never minded it."

"So what do you do?" He wondered.

"Sometimes I read in the library, though mostly I draw."

That quipped his interest. "Really? What do you draw? I can't draw anything, I tried making posters for the swim club, but they didn't turn out very good," he said.

That was kind of a loaded question as I drew anything from buildings to people to plants and everything else in-between. Sometimes my drawing was more cartoonish in nature, while others were like 3-D sketches that jumped off the page. It all depended on how I was feeling at the time. "Umm…I don't really have a preference. I just draw what I see, I guess," I replied.

It was then that the loudspeaker came on announcing the next stop. Nagisa's attention shifted to the speaker mounted above my head then back to me. "Ah, this is where we get off," he remarked. "Sadako-chan, it was nice talking to you. We'll see you in class, m'kay?"

I was confused. I didn't think the school was until the next stop. "But aren't you getting off a stop too early?" I wondered stepping out of the way as the doors slid open and people started to exit the train. Rygazaki had already stepped off and was standing on the platform to wait for Nagisa, who had lagged behind to talk to me.

"We are. But Rei-chan and I run the last length to school," he explained.

"Oh." My eyes darted between the two boys. "Then you should get going or you'll both be late," I said.

Nagisa nodded and stepped onto the platform. But he stopped suddenly and turned back to me as if he remembered something. "Oh, Sadako-chan! Since you've joined the swimming club, maybe you could run with us sometime," he offered.

"Maybe."

Nagisa smiled at my response and waved. "Bye-bye."

I waved back and replied with a farewell of my own. Then the doors closed again and I was once again smashed up against the windows, watching as the two boys jogged down the road toward the high school. Running with them in the morning couldn't hurt. And I wouldn't mind talking to them some more in class either.  _'I just hope I don't forget their names again…'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little shorter than the first one. But I did try to include some of the swim club members in it. I also tried to show a little bit of Sawako's background with her mom and her step-father George. I'll go more into that later.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. New Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sawako gets to know her new club members.

Because I woke up late and had to take the later train, I didn't have a whole lot of time before homeroom started. That was unfortunate. But that wasn't going to stop me from doing what I set out to do.

I hurried down the corridor to class 2-E. In my hands, I had a bag filled with Kou's freshly laundered gym clothes that I needed to return to her. It didn't feel right to keep them any longer than I have. And I was worried that if I didn't get them back to her before homeroom, then she would have nothing to wear for her gym class. The people I passed in the hall moved out of my way, avoiding my eyes as was usual. I didn't even think much about it when they began whispering to each other as soon as I passed.

" _Did I just see the grudge run past?"_

" _You didn't look her in the eyes, right?"_

I skidded to a halt at the door; my indoor shoes sliding along the smooth floor and causing me to stumbled into the doorframe. My hand shot out to steady myself, in the process bumping my knuckles roughly against the wall. "Ow…" I winced.

Kou was easy to pick out of a crowd. Her maroon hair was so uncommon in Japan that it was similar to having a flashing, neon, arrow overhead at all times. She was standing in the middle of the classroom talking to what I assumed was her classmate or even a good friend with how close they were standing.

"K-Kou-chan," I huffed, slightly out of breath from more or less sprinting down the halls. I don't know how I'm going to run with Nagisa and Ryugazaki if I can't even run down the hall without getting winded.

Kou turned around when her name was called. Her ruby eyes lit up when they landed on me and instantly a smile stretched across her face. "Sadako-chan,  _Ohayou_!" She chirped, "What are you doing here?"

I stumbled over and held the bag up in my hands. " _Ohayou…_ Umm, I wanted to return these to you. It's the clothes you lent me," I explained when she looked confused, "I washed them. So thank you for your help." My head dipped unconsciously in a bow before I handed over the bag.

"Oh, well thanks for washing them. But you don't need to be so formal, Sadako-chan. I didn't do anything that anyone else wouldn't have," she replied setting the bag on the desk. Then turning to the girl standing beside her, the same girl that she had been talking to before I interrupted. "Chigusa-chan, this is the new member I was telling you about; Akamatsu, Sadako."

Chigusa looked at me with interest, bending down so she could see my eyes. The girl was a lot taller than me, and only a little bit taller than Kou. She reminded me a bit of my mother, what with the brownish-orange hair, but her eyes were a pretty aquamarine color. "So you're the ghost, huh? You don't seem very imposing," she commented, "I was expecting something… _taller."_

"Uh…yes. I'm a…" How was I supposed to respond to that?

"Not everyone can be as tall as you, Chisuga-chan," Kou quipped.

"That's true." She shrugged then stuck out her hand. "Name's Hanamura, Chisuga. But you can call me Chisuga if you like. I hang out with Gou a lot so I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of each other."

I grasped her hand lightly shaking it. "Nice to meet you."

"I told you my name is Kou!" Kou started. "Gou is a guy's name. Don't call me Gou."

Chisuga raised a brow. "But your name is Gou."

"It's pronounced Kou."

"Gou."

"Kou."

"Gou."

"K…"

It looked like neither girl was going to relent anytime soon. Kou kept insisting that her name was Kou; while Chisuga kept using Gou. I wasn't a hundred percent sure, but I seemed like the taller girl was doing it on purpose just to get a rise out of her friend. However, I still needed to get to class so I didn't have time to wait around for them to finish. "–Sorry, but I need to go… homeroom is about to start," I said effectively derailing both girls.

Kou looked a bit sheepish. "Right, I got a little sidetracked." Then she was smiling again, "You'll have lunch with us later, won't you? Chisuga-chan and I eat on the roof and we'd love if you'd join us…"

"Yes, please do," Chisuga agreed.

Two invites in one day? I don't think I'd ever had that happen before. It was strange, although not unwanted. All these people that were suddenly thrust into my life, they were all so friendly. Up until now, people had more or less avoided or ignored my very presence, so what made them so different? Was it just because I joined the swim club? Or were they all what they appeared to be; friendly, good-hearted people who genuinely wanted me there? I didn't know. Still, I believed in believing the best in people, and they had done nothing as of yet to make me think my first impressions of them were wrong.

"A-ah, sure. I'd like that very much," I replied. And I did. They probably had no idea how much the simple offer of us eating together meant to me. To them it was only a gesture, a thing anyone else would do, but it made me so happy. And for the first time, I thought that joining the swim club might be the best decision I ever made.

It wasn't until l left the classroom and was walking down the hall, that I realized I was smiling. And it was immediately after that that I realized I had absolutely no idea how to get to the roof. I probably should've asked them.

* * *

Thankfully, I didn't actually have to figure out where the roof was on my own. Nagisa had offered to help me –Well, offering was a kinder way of putting it –He more or less dragged me from the classroom the second lunch rolled around. I think he had the best intentions in mind, so I wasn't as put off by it as I probably should've been. More than anything, Nagisa simply seemed to be the type of person who got so caught up in the moment that they sometimes forgot to take into account other peoples' personal boundaries. And it wasn't like I hadn't been exposed to this type of behavior before, Laurel was more or less the same way.

Contrariwise, Ryugazaki was the exact opposite. He followed behind us at a more dignified pace and called out to Nagisa, more than once, to slow down as he was practically skipping up the stairs. Of the two, he seemed to be the one who was more taciturn – ' _Is that the right word? I don't think it is' –_ serious maybe, or sensible. Yeah sensible, that's a good way to describe Ryugazaki. Levelheaded, sensible, practical –those all fit him to a T.

Nagisa wasn't sensible, but he made up for that with his energetic, bubbly, personality. Honestly, I don't think I've ever met someone so animated. Even my mom who could talk a mile-a-minute with wind gusts up to sixty-five miles-per-hour paled in comparison. "–I can't wait until it comes out in theaters. It's supposed to the slasher-film of the year…"

After he found out I shared his love for horror films, Nagisa had started telling me about this movie that was coming out this summer. It was your typical plotline, five teenagers go camping in the woods and one by one they're picked off and cut to ribbons by some monster or psycho-murder. But you wouldn't find out which was which until halfway through the movie. I had seen trailers for it more than once and the previews looked good, good enough to get me interested anyway. As far as the reviews went, I found that more often than not they oversold the movie and there had been very few times I've seen a film that did live up to the hype.

"So you're planning to see it when it comes out?" I asked, stopping on the stairs to catch my breath.

"Mmhm. Although, it's not as much fun if you go by yourself. Maybe the whole club should do it," he added thoughtfully. "We could plan it on a Sunday when there's no school. I bet Rin-chan would want to go too."

Ryugazaki quickly shot that idea down, however. "Not interested. Besides, you know I'm busy studying on Sundays and Makoto-sempai hates scary movies," he said. I didn't know about the studying, albeit the gentle-giant-swim-club-captain did seem like the type to be afraid of horror films. He did mistake me for a  _Kappa_  after all.

Although, I was more curious to who this  _Rin-chan_  person was? Is it a boy or a girl? As far as I knew, Kou was the only girl that really hung out with the swim club until I showed up. So did that mean Rin-chan was a guy? It was a really feminine name –then again Nagisa, Rei, and Makoto were also considered girls' names so maybe it wasn't that weird.

"But Rrrrreeee-iiii-chan," Nagisa whined drawling the other boy's name into two syllables, "it would be fun."

"Still not interested."

"Fine! Then I guess I'll just have to go with Sadako-chan," the blond suddenly latched onto my arm causing me to stumble. My hand instantly grabbed the handrail to prevent myself from falling headfirst down the stairs. I felt a brief flicker of annoyance when I looked at his smiling face, unaware that he almost accidentally pushed me down the stairs, but then I sighed. It was an accident. He didn't do it on purpose. "You'll go to the movie with me, yeah?"

"Uh...sure," I said. It could be fun. It's been a couple years since I've been to a movie theater. I think the last time was when Laurel and I went to see  _Deathly Hallows Part 2_  of the Harry Potter franchise. That was like three or four years ago. I usually just wait for the movie to come out on DVD and buy it.

Nagisa beamed, then stuck his tongue out at Ryugazaki. "Childish, Nagisa-kun." Even though those words were a bit cold, I could tell Ryugazaki didn't put any real malice in them. The taller boy was smiling warmly, as if he had already grown used to Nagisa's behavior and openly accepted it. He moved passed us and up the stairs with a subtle shake of his head at his friend's antics. "Come on. Everyone's probably waiting for us."

The blond shot me a cheeky grin before he released my arm. "Let's go, Sadako-chan." Apparently, I was now involved with these two whether I liked it or not. Thankfully, they're both really nice.

* * *

I couldn't remember the last time I had eaten a meal with such a large group of people. Maybe I never have. Meals for me were usually quite affairs, even on the rare instances when my dad was home, neither of us really talked much at least not verbally. But more often than not, I found myself eating alone with no one to talk to but myself. Which is why I had gotten into the habit of taking a book with me everywhere I went. You don't look so lonely if you're reading.

Today was different, though, because it was the first day that I was surrounded by a group of people. Across from me sat Kou and Chisuga and on either side of them was Ryugazaki and Makoto. I found myself seated between Nagisa and the swim club's vice-captain, who everyone kept referring to as Haru-chan despite the fact that he obviously didn't favor the honorifics. Now Haru-chan, or Haru as I decided to call him, was some who was taciturn. The almost expressionless face he wore never wavered and when he did speak, which was few and far between, that same emotionless tone coated every syllable. It was a stark contrast to my blond classmate sitting on the other side of me.

They were all talking about something swimming related that went over my head. But that was fine. I was more content to sit and listen than feeling the need to speak myself. My mother always did say my natural state was silence.

"Is that alright with you, Akamatsu-san?"

Huh? All conversation had suddenly stopped at Makoto's question. Funny thing was I didn't even realize they were discussing me until now. I tried racking my brain for an answer, but for the life of me, I couldn't remember what they had been talking about. "Umm…sorry, I zoned out for a second," I said.

Makoto, I internally thanked him for this, simply nodded pleasantly before repeating himself. "The swim club is meeting at SC Returns, a gym owned by our old swim coach, after school. I was wondering if you felt comfortable starting out learning the basic strokes or using a kickboard and learning the flutter and frog kicks?"

"Oh." I didn't know what a flutter or frog kick was, although I guess that didn't really matter. But it wasn't really much of a decision because I couldn't do any swimming today anyways.

You see, I didn't have a swim suit. This morning, in my rush to get ready, I had torn my closet apart looking for my navy one-piece before I remembered that I had accidently left it back home in Hawaii when I visited over New Years. I had decided at the time not to bother my mom with shipping it to me, claiming that it was time for a new one anyways. Nevertheless, I had still not bothered replacing it as I didn't go swimming that much since I moved to Japan. Not at all like Hawaii, where if I didn't go to the beach at least every two days I would find myself overcome with something that the locals referred to as 'sun guilt'.

"Well, I thought I'd just watch today. I don't actually have a swimsuit right now. And I was going to get one this weekend," I explained. Again I found myself internally berating myself for not having bought one months ago.

"I see." He said looking thoughtful. "If that's the case, you're perfectly welcome to sit and watch. But a suit is something you need to take care of quickly. You know Sports Zero sells an assortment of swim suits all year-round."

"Oh?" I uttered that syllable on reflex. I didn't know what Sports Zero was, although by the name I guessed it was a sporting goods store. Something that I, up until now, never needed to step foot in. "That's good to know," I remarked before asking, "Where is one?"

"Uh, there's one located at the mall," Kou chimed in helpfully. She didn't need to specify which mall because there was only one mall in Iwatobi. I couldn't tell you what the exact name of the place was –I think it was like  _Dai Moru_ , or something –but people only ever referred to it as 'The Mall' so I don't think anyone even bothered to remember its name.

"That's right," Makoto nodded, "We went there last April to get swimsuits."

"You know, I actually need to head over there this weekend," Kou added as an afterthought. "I'd be happy to show you where the store is, if you'd like?"

"I wouldn't want to inconvenience you," I said.

"It's no trouble. I'm heading there anyways," she waved off my concern, "Really I insist. Besides a girl needs a second opinion on these things."

Well if she insisted, who am I to turn it down? It still amazed me that she genuinely wanted to spend time with me. "Okay. Thank you, Kou-chan," I smiled gratefully.

Now, let me take a second and explain what happened immediately after that because I think it needs to be looked into. You see, I didn't think I did anything particularly odd. Smiling was actually something I did quite often, once I got comfortable around someone. But I guess seeing it for the first time came as shock because that's exactly what happened.

Kou froze, eyes wide, in surprise as did everyone else. Or at least it seemed like it, because things suddenly got very quiet. It was so quiet, in fact, that I could hear the sound of a seagull off in the distance. (I guess instead of crickets, Iwatobi has seagulls.) Anyways, this silence carried on for no more than a couple seconds, yet the pause was long enough and sudden enough to be noticeable. I started to feel uncomfortable with all of them staring at me and attempted to shift my attention to something else.

' _The sky looks really blue today…'_

"So cute," I heard someone whisper before Kou launched herself across the circle and into my lap. The maroon-haired girl wrapped her arms around me and squeezed.

"You called me Kou!" She cheered, squeezing me tighter.

For such a delicate looking person, she sure was strong. It felt like she was wringing all the air out of my lungs. I wonder if this what a rat felt like as it was strangled to death by a python? That analogy creeped me out more than it should have as the idea of Kou being a one of those scaly reptiles, wrapping her coils around me, and piercing me with those sharp, poisonous fangs had me wanting to flee. "I can't breathe," I winced; flailing my arms.

Hearing my plea, Kou released her hold on me and grinned. "Ah, sorry."

"It's okay," I said as she returned to her seat and shifted my attention to Makoto. "So is there any particular brand I should look for or…?" I asked him.

"–Just get the one that fits best," Haru suddenly chimed in from beside me. It was the first time he actually addressed me, so I was a little caught off guard. But I think what really distracted me was the piercing blue eyes staring down at me. They were such a pretty color, like the color blue that was only found in the depths of the ocean, and I found myself staring for a second too long.

Thankfully, the only one who seemed to notice this was Haru himself and he certainly didn't comment on it. "Well, I find that color is an important factor to consider when buying a swimsuit," Ryugazaki added trying to be helpful. "For example, brighter colors, like yellow, tend to be considered happy and have a positive effect on your psyche which could help during a race."

"I think a yellow swimsuit would look cute on Sadako-chan," Nagisa remarked. The blond gave me a playful smile, then took a giant bite out of his Iwatobi Surprise Bread causing some of the fruit filling to ooze out of the bottom. I watched the blob get closer and steadily closer to falling on his uniform slacks.

"Umm...Nagisa-kun, you're dripping." His eyes followed my line of sight to the glob of – _what was that? Strawberry?_  –red jam congealing at the end of his bread. He reacted quickly, turning the bread around and licking of the glob before it started to drip from the other side; which he then took another huge bite and the problem started all over again.

Nagisa continued to repeat this process, until he finished his bread. "I have an idea! Why don't we all go? I'd like to see the new styles out and Rei-chan, weren't you just talking about wanting to get a new pair of goggles?" The blond suggested. "And that way we could show Sadako-chan exactly which ones are the good brands and which ones aren't."

"I don't have anything planned tomorrow," Ryugazaki said. Tomorrow, being Saturday as today was Friday. And I knew, because he had previously mentioned it, that the blue-haired boy studied on Sundays so Saturday was the only day he was free. "I wouldn't mind going, if its tomorrow. As long as that's alright with you, Akamatsu-chan."

It didn't bother me one bit if they wanted to tag-along. But I was more concerned if Kou minded. Maybe she just wanted it to be a girls' day or something, I wasn't sure. "No, it's fine. That is unless Kou-chan…?"

"–I don't mind either," the club manager said.

"I'd like to go too," Chisuga remarked, "I need to look for a new bikini for this summer."

Makoto looked over to Haru, silently asking him if he wanted to come also. The raven-haired senior merely shrugged and took another bite of his mackerel and rice as if to say ' _I'll do whatever. Doesn't bother me…'_  and Makoto smiled. "We're in too," he gestured to himself and Haru. "As club captain, it's my job to make sure that new members are looked after."

Nagisa cheered, "Alright so it's settled! Tomorrow we'll all go to the mall!"

 


	4. Super Best Friends

School seemed to pass by much faster than it normally did. I don't know if that had something to do with the movie we watched for Japanese History class because the teacher, Mr. Tsuda, called in sick. Or maybe the day seemed shorter because Nagisa had taken to passing me notes during the movie via Ryugazaki. (Which the taller boy had quickly grown frustrated with and ended up swapping seats with the blond just so he would stop being the go-between.) Whatever the reason, school was over before I knew it and I found myself, for the second time that day, getting dragged behind Nagisa as the three of us hurried to the footlockers in order to meet up with the rest of the swim club.

"So Haru-chan walks in, ya know, all starry-eyed and you can just tell he was about to do something. Then next thing we knew, he started shrugging off his jacket and kicking off his shoes and was in his swimsuit in two seconds flat. Mako-chan barely managed to grab him before he tired jumping into the tank!"

"He wears a swimsuit under his pants?" I wondered curiously.

Nagisa nodded. "Yeah."

"And he was going to get into a tank with lobsters?" I repeated.

"Yep."

I didn't know what to make of that story. Trying to picture the stoic boy from lunch doing something so ridiculous was just…  _How does that even happen?_

"But Haru-chan's always been like that," Nagisa explained, "I think that if it were up to him, he'd never get out of the water."

"He must really like swimming," I said as we arrived at the lockers.

The blond nodded. "We all do, but no one as much as Haru-chan."

I guess when you stop to think about it are his actions really so unusual? Sure on the surface, maybe Haru was an eccentric; but if you were to look past that, you'd see that perhaps, it wasn't so much of an odd behavior as it was the fundamental wiring of his personality. One of my favorite quotes from the beloved classic,  _The Addams Family_  put it best: "What is normal for the spider, is chaos for the fly." To the third-party observer, Haru's thought process may have seemed chaotic; but to Haru, I'm sure, everything he did, he did with a clear and well-thought-out process.

Besides on some level I understood it, I think. At least, I mean, I had some idea what would entice him to have such strong feelings towards the water. (Although, I personally would never try to strip off all my clothes and submerge myself in the supermarket's lobster tank.) I understood how passions worked. When someone is passionate about something, all logical reasoning goes right out the window, you become entranced –almost obsessive –to the point that you cared little for anything else. My Dad, for example, was passionate about music; to the point that he would scarcely remember to eat, let alone sleep, if he was busy composing. I've heard that Albert Einstein, himself, suffered from this affliction as well. Which is why I supposed, that many famous composers such as Chopin, Mozart, and Bach died young because they had more important things to do than to worry about trivial things such as keeping a healthy lifestyle.

And I'm guilty of this too.

I confess reluctantly that I had developed a habit of staying up until three or four or even five o'clock in the morning when my hands took over and my drawings took on a life of their own. It was almost like being possessed like I needed to draw more than I needed to anything else, and when that urge took over I could do nothing to fight it. And for Haru swimming probably did the same thing.

Since the lockers were arranged alphabetically by last name and our last names weren't anywhere close to one another, the three of us split up to go to our respective lockers; regrouping by the Ks.

"Haru-sempai's swimming is really beautiful, though," Ryugazaki told me. "He practically glides through the water."

"Like a dolphin?" I mused.

"Precisely."

I could see it. Not like Haru's appearance resembled a dolphin or anything, but he seemed to possess this natural gracefulness in everything he did. I noticed it today when we were having lunch. The way someone eats is very telling about their personality. And Haru ate very prettily.

That sounds weird, I'll try to explain it better.

You see, when I say pretty I don't mean like he was physically attractive when he ate. (Though I will admit that compared to some people, he was on the attractive side of the spectrum.) What I mean is that Haru ate like how I imagined someone like the Queen of England would eat –someone who was raised to retain a high level of class and dignity from birth. (Which may actually elude something to Haru's parents, however, I'm merely speculating.) He was—I don't want to go so far as to call him regal, but that's the only word I can think of to describe it. His hands were perfectly steady as he held his chopsticks, I had noticed fairly impressed, and he ate at a moderate pace, chewing each bite thoroughly. He also had excellent posture which that alone was rare among people my age.

"Gou-chan! Haru-chan!" Nagisa suddenly called out, catching sight of the swim club manager and the vice-captain exiting the same row of lockers.

They both stopped and turned to the blond. "Stop with the chan already—"

"I told you not to call me Gou," Kou said. I thought it was funny how they had basically said the same thing at the same time. A short laugh slipped past my lips which Haru heard. Blue eyes met mine in a second. I looked away first and blushed.

_...Now, he probably thinks I was laughing at him._

"Where's Makoto-sempai?" Ryugazaki asked. The question was directed toward Haru as he would be the only one to know.

"I'm right here!" Just then, the boy in question made his appearance. Appearing around the corner, he had a stack of books balanced precariously in his arms while he tried to shove some of them in his backpack. Haru and I both stepped forward and took the books from his hands before they could topple over. "Thanks," he smiled at us and finished shoving two more books into his bag. He couldn't fit anymore after that.

I turned my head, seeing my homeroom teacher, Ms. Amakata, approaching. Ms. Amakata was the kind of teacher that was both respected and beloved by her students. She was the fun teacher. The kind of teacher that would try to get you out of trouble. (Granted, she might not always succeed.) And yes, she could be a little odd sometimes with her obscure literary references. When I first met her, I was struck with the resemblance she had to a swimsuit model I had once seen in a magazine that my Dad had lying around the house. A model that I remembered because I had used it as a photo-reference on more than one occasion over the years. She had the same soft brown eyes and milk-chocolate hair, although hers was considerably shorter. But the model in the magazine was much younger than the twenty-something teacher and even if by chance they were the same person, I hardly saw why I would ever need to ask her about it.

That being said, Amakata Miho was probably my favorite teacher thus far. But that probably had more to do with the fact that she wasn't afraid of me and couldn't care less about the ghost rumors. I believe her exact words were: " _To speak as little as possible of one's self. To mind one's own business. To pass over the mistakes of others. To accept being slighted, forgotten and disliked. To be kind and gentle even under provocation… These are the few ways we can practice humility."_

Her immediate joy when I recognized the quote from Mother Teresa still lingers in my memory.

"Tachibana-kun, thank you for helping me with these books," Ms. Amakata said as she stopped beside the boy. Like Makoto, Ms. Amakata was also carrying her own small stack of books, along with her purse.

"It's no trouble. I'm happy to help, ma'am." Makoto paused and glanced briefly at me. "Oh, this is the new member I was telling you about—"

"Akamatsu-chan!" The woman smiled catching sight of me. "This is great! You're finally joining a club."

I knew that Ms. Amakata would be happy about this. Over the moon, actually, because she had been urging me to join a club since my first-year. Although, it wasn't like I hadn't tried before now, I mean, if only for the sake of socializing. But this funny thing would happen that every time I'd show up to a club room, every member would be mysteriously absent. Perhaps it was just coincidence or maybe (And this was far more likely.) they somehow found out I was coming and decided to make themselves scarce for fear of being cursed. Whatever the reason, I eventually said to hell with it and stopped trying. I didn't really even want to join a club, to begin with. I wasn't a club person. Even in Hawaii, the only after-school activity I took part in was choir –I'd much rather not spend more time at school than I needed to. But this didn't stop Ms. Amakata from suggesting it every now and then.

"Yeah," I said, awkwardly shifting the books in my arms.

Doing so, however, made it come off as if I thought the books were heavy. (Which they kind of were.) And Makoto was kind enough to relieve me of them. "I got those."

"Oh…thank you."

Together the group of us walked out to the lot where the school faculty parked their cars and deposited the extra books in Ms. Amakata's car. Then we proceeded to walk the four blocks it would take to get to the gym. I walked beside Nagisa taking note of the various shops with their Meiji Restoration architecture.

"You'll like coach Sasabe," Nagisa told me. "He's a little rough around the edges, but he's a good guy. He helped us out a lot last year with the club. As kids, we called him demon coach because was so strict on swimming."

"How strict was he?" I asked.

"Pretty strict. If you were late to practice, he would make you swim ten, sometimes fifteen laps without stopping."

"Oh...that's sounds a bit like a drill sergeant," I said. It made me a bit nervous to think about. I didn't do particularly well with domineering people.

Nagisa nodded in agreement. "Yeah, but he didn't make us do any pushups." The blond seemed to have noticed my change in demeanor as he quickly began to reassure me. "But it's nothing to worry about. When you really get down to it Coach-Sasabe is a huge teddy bear," he said.

As it turned out, I had absolutely nothing to worry about. Coach Sasabe, while imposing in stature and a rough-looking appearance, was exactly like Nagisa had described. He had stopped me by the poolside when the group of us had arrived and at first he hadn't said anything but stared intensely into my eyes. There was a sort of coarseness to the way he carried himself that made him rather intimidating and at first, I was confused, even a little unsettled, by the intensity in his dark brown eyes.

"Are we having a staring contest?" I asked him, then added, "Because I think in order for it to be official, we have to be seated."

Sasabe arched his thick dark brows before his lips twitched upwards into a grin. "I heard if people look into your eyes they get cursed. I wanted to see if that's true," he explained.

"It's not," I said.

"I guess not. It's too bad though, it would've been useful in competition," he said. "Just think you could be completely unstoppable to the point that no one would dare look in your direction, much less compete."

I laughed at the ridiculousness of the idea. "Well, I'm not a Carrie or anything. Things like that only happen in the movies."

"No psychic powers?"

"I wish. Would've made finals a lot easier," I said.

Sasabe looked taken aback for a moment; unsure whether or not I was joking, then letting out a hearty laugh after he decided that I was. "Welcome to Iwatobi SC Returns," then he leaned down an whispered somewhat conspicuously, "Don't let these weirdos scare you away."

Nagisa had paused, overhearing that statement, and cried out, "We're not that weird!" But just then Haru was striping out of his school uniform leaving himself in a pair of black swim trunks with purple detailing.

"Hey, Nanase! Use the locker rooms!" Sasabe turned his attention away from me, but his words fell on deaf ears as Haru jumped into the pool, water splashing up over the side.

I watched as his body slipped effortlessly through the water. Each muscle expanding and contracting as the water rippled around him, catching the light in just such a way that had my hands twitching toward my book bag and the sketchbook I kept inside. He was already halfway down the length of the pool. "Wow, he's fast."

Sasabe glanced at me and let out a rather long sigh. "Oh yeah. That's Haru for ya. That kid's got a lot of natural talent if he just applied himself more."

That was an interesting statement. I tilted my head slightly to look up at him, then glanced down the length of the pool. He looked so at ease in the water, moving gracefully through it, as if he were, in fact, part fish. "I think he applies himself enough. I mean talent is just another word for hard work. You don't get that good if you don't apply yourself," I said.

Sasabe raised his brows, then gave me an appraising look. "That's pretty insightful," he said.

Is it? It just seemed like common sense to me.

"Akamatsu-san." Ms. Amakata came up to me and handed me a paper she had taken out of her bag. "Here," she said, "this is the club form that needs to be filled out in order for you to become an official member."

"Oh, thank you." I took it from her, scanning over the page and the information it was asking for. Sasabe had begun chatting up Ms. Amakata and I decided to walk down the length of the poolside where Kou was at. I came up to her and sat down on the dry towel she had laid there.

She looked up from the book in her lap and smiled at me. "So what do you think?" She asked.

I cast a quick around the room seeing Makoto-sempai, Ryugazaki, and Nagisa return from the locker rooms after changing into their swimsuits. I didn't quite understand what she was asking, so when I turned to her and said, "I think it's nice. Sasabe-san must've put in a lot of work into the remodeling." Kou looked at me with a deadpanned expression.

"No," she brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear and scooted closer to me. She spoke quietly, mindful of how sound bounced off the concrete and tiles echoing back to the others. "I mean the guys. What do you think of the guys? Who's your favorite." She asked.

Oh? I turned and cast a quick glance back down the length of the pool. Makoto had gotten Haru out of the pool and they were now having some sort of meeting at the other end by the starting blocks. "I don't think I've known them long enough to pick a favorite," I said. "I mean I'm in class with Nagisa-kun and Ryugazaki-kun so I've spent more time with them. But Nanase-sempai and Tachibana-sempai both seem like really good guys. Although Nanase-sempai is a bit quiet."

If anything the blank look on Kou's face worsened. She blinked at me slowly, her thin brows furrowing together. "No," she said again. "That's not...I was asking you about their muscles."

"What about them?"

"Who is your favorite?"

"I think they're all nice," I told her. "I'm not an expert or anything, but they all look relatively proportional to their body types."

"But you don't have a favorite," she said.

I shook my head. "As long as their comfortable as they are and they're healthy, who am I to judge? Confidence is more attractive than muscles any day."

"Then you don't have an ideal body type?"

I shook my head. "Who's your favorite?"

A look of deep reflection passed over her face as she considered my question. This was clearly a subject she took rather seriously and thought a lot about. She launched into this long monologue about it being a tough choice between Makoto and Haru using vast amounts of muscle terminology. Half of which I understood because of my experience drawing still life and half of which went over my head because I clearly hadn't studied muscular anatomy as extensively as Kou had. "In the end," she finished, "I had to allot all my points to my older brother."

"Oh, you have a brother?" I asked her. "Is he on the swim team too?"

"He is. But he doesn't go to Iwatobi. He's on Sumezuka's swim team. You know that all boys boarding school?" I had heard of it, I think. Bordering on the next town over, it was a bit of a ways away from Iwatobi high school and well-known for its athletic department. "Anyways, we sometimes go there and have joint practices since they have an indoor pool. That and it's fun to get together from time to time."

"I see."

I wondered briefly what it was like to have an older brother. I was an only child, my conception being a monumental a surprise for my parents when they were in their senior year in high school. Obviously, they didn't end up getting married or anything like that. Their relationship was temporary—a high school fling—but sometimes I wished, the way that all children wish, that they had managed to work it out; that maybe we could've been a real family. Real in the sense that we were together and not separated by oceans, countries, or languages. Having a sibling would've made those things not so difficult, or at least not so lonely.

"Hey," Kou leaned towards me, her expression turning concerned. "Is there something wrong?"

"Huh?" I didn't realize that during my reflections, my expression had become somewhat melancholic. "No," I shook my head. "I was just daydreaming."

* * *

The next two hours of swim practice passed relatively quickly. Kou and I spent the majority of the time talking about various things and comparing homework answers. She was a very easy person to get along with and talk too. She was well-versed in topics concerning swimming, muscles, and calligraphy which we talked about for some time out of my curiosity and her expertise of the medium. Then I happened to mention my love of watercolor painting to which she was really interested. "I think I have a few in my sketchbook," I told her when she asked to see some of them.

"Really? Can I see them?"

"...Sure," I turned to dig through my bag and extracting a black spiral sketchbook. I thumbed through the pages, seeing flashes of ink, pencils, and charcoal before stopping at a page filled with vibrant blues and yellows. Flipping the other pages to the back, I turned it to Kou and showed her the picture of two Yellow tangs with a deep blue background. "This is one I did a couple weeks ago."

"Wow! That's amazing—"

"What's amazing?" Nagisa popped up behind me suddenly, surprising both of us, and causing a startled gasp to escape my lips.  _Geez, a little warning would've nice._ I turned to him, my gaze settling on his face and the wet blond curls sticking to his forehead and dripping water down the bridge of his nose. He was standing half crouched over us with a terrycloth blue and white striped towel draped over his shoulders. His soft coral-colored eyes meet mine with interest and curiosity.

"Sadako-chan was showing me her watercolor painting," Kou said pulling his eyes from me to sketchbook in her hands.

An excited look passed over his face and he crouched down even more. "Really? Can I see? Sadako-chan?"

"Sure," I took the sketchbook back from Kou and flipped it around so he could see.

"Whoa! That's so cool!" He exclaimed loudly. "You painted that?"

"—uh, yeah…"

I was beginning to feel embarrassed by the attention and praise. A red-hot flush engulfed me, starting as a spark and quickly growing to a raging inferno that bloomed across my usually colorless face making me feel a strange mix of excited and anxious. I never knew how to respond to compliments and part of me always felt unsettled by them; like I needed to repay them somehow.

"It's so detailed. You can even see some of the individual scales," he observed.

"How long did it take you?" Kou asked.

"A couple hours," I said.

"You have a real talent," Nagisa said. "I'm jealous."

"Thank you," I smiled at them both before turning my attention back to Nagisa. "Is practice over?"

"Pretty much," he said. "We just have to pack up and hit the showers."

"Do you want any help?" I offered.

Nagisa raised his brows as his lips twitched upwards into an impish grin. "Whoa! I didn't think you'd be so bold!"

His voice had a teasing tilt to it. Almost like he was making fun of me for something. Had I said something wrong? Japanese wasn't my first language and as such, it wasn't uncommon for me to slip up and make a mistake every so often. But I had thought that I had gotten a lot better at recognizing my mistakes as soon as I made them. I thought back over the last few seconds of the conversation, especially focusing on my response—

_Oh. My. God._

My eyes widened as I realized the double entendre. Had I just offered to help Nagisa shower? I had hadn't I—at least it could be misconstrued that way.  _Oh god, that's embarrassing._

My face felt unbearably hot as I shook my head. "No—that's not what I—You're misunderstanding...T-The packing! I meant the packing," I said.

"Nice save," Kou was grinning just as widely as my blond classmate giving me a thumbs up.

Nagisa laughed shaking his head causing water droplets to land on me. "I'm teasing. I'm teasing," he grinned. "Your face is so red!"

_That's cause I'm embarrassed y-you jerk._

"It's cute," he said.

I peered up at him, frowning. "I hope you get soap in your eyes."

"Aww, Sadako-chan that's mean!"

* * *

After about ten minutes, I had managed to get my blush back down from tomato-red to a pale, rosy pink. Admittedly, I was still fairly embarrassed by what happened, but by now my head had cooled enough that I was able to see the good-natured taunting for what it was. Nagisa, the goof, had seriously thought I was angry with him and had immediately launched into a slew of long-winded apologies, throwing his arms around me, and refusing to let me go until I forgave him.

"Nagisa-kun you're getting me wet," I complained. If my arms hadn't been pinned down to my sides and if my face hadn't been smashed up against his warm, lean torso, I would've been able to recognize the second indueno before it came out of my mouth. But I was finding it increasingly difficult to think past anything but Nagisa. The warmth of his skin, the surprising strength he had in his lean frame, the smell of chlorine clinging to his hair as the icy-cool water droplets soaked into my school uniform—all of it was distracting as hell.

"That's what she said."

 _Ugh._ I walked right into that one, didn't I? I squirmed, trying to loosen his hold. "Let go. I'm cold."

"Not until you accept my apology," he said.

"I accept your apology," I said blandly.

"And a smile," he added and I looked up at him nonplussed. "So I know you mean it."

There was this playful glimmer in his eyes despite his expression being wholly serious. Like he was laughing at me without actually laughing at me. I was half-tempted to stomp down on his barefoot, but saner heads prevailed and I was too worn out to put up any more of a fight. Reluctantly, my lips twitched upwards as I tried and inevitably failed to plaster on a fake smile. I couldn't see my expression, but judging how quickly Nagisa's changed from teasing to alarmed I guessed that my smile looked anything but friendly.

"T-That's close enough," his laugh seemed rathered forced as he let me go. He made a somewhat hasty retreat after that leaving me feeling that I had somehow made things awkward between us.

Kou and I busied ourselves with packing up our scattered textbooks, all the while I was busy replaying the scene over and over again like a broken record. Had I overreacted? Nagisa had only been goofing off like he had been all day. It didn't mean anything more than playful teasing. So why couldn't I had just let it roll off my shoulder? Why did I have to take it so seriously?

It was because I was the butt of the joke. But so what? Someone is always the butt of a joke. That's why it's a joke. But it brought up old memories, sliced open scarred over wounds, where I had been the butt of many jokes and none of them were funny. I'm no stranger to bullying or those schoolyard taunts that would be shouted at me or spoken behind my back. Back then they used to make me want to disappear, to hide, to cut myself off from people; but then Laurel moved in next door and she became a mentor, a protector, my friend. She taught me that I shouldn't care about what people say about me, that the only opinion that matters about myself is my own, and as long as I'm satisfied with who I am everyone else is background noise. But having learned that lesson, I found myself forgetting it today and that feeling of wanting to be invisible resurfaced.

I should apologize. That would be best for everyone involved. I glanced over at Kou; even she was being uncommonly quiet. A feeling of dread began to pool in my stomach making me feel a bit nauseous. Maybe I really did shoot myself in the foot here. I'm such an idiot. "I'm sorry," I clenched fingers tightly around my sketchbook as the other girl stopped to look at me.

"What for?" Kou furrowed her brows together.

"I made things uncomfortable earlier," I said. "I took the joke too seriously and made things awkward."

The redhead looked even more puzzled. "No you didn't," she contradicted me, her mouth pulling down into a frown. "It was Nagisa who took things too far like he always does. I mean look at you." She waved her hand towards the front of my uniform and the large, wet splotches soaked into the fabric. "You're completely soaked through. If anything Nagisa needs to apologize."

"But I—"

"No. You did nothing wrong," she said.

That's not true. But Kou couldn't see inside my mind. She couldn't know how I flubbed up and let some of my emotions get the better of me. It was unfair to put all the blame on one single person and I knew that I wasn't totally blameless in this situation either. "Nagisa-kun was only messing around," I said. "He didn't do anything wrong either."

Kou arched one of her thin auburn brows, her eyes settling again on my uniform incredulously. She looked as if she wanted to disagree. But then she must've decided better of it; fixing me with a resolute stare. "Then neither you nor he needs to apologize," she told me. "It's in the past now, so the best thing to do would be to let it go. I'm sure he's already forgotten about it already too."

"You think so?"

"Nagisa-kun doesn't hold onto grudges," she said with an air of finality. Her tone of voice made it abundantly clear that this topic was over and Kou would not be discussing it anymore or accepting any more of my weak apologies. She had absolved me of any blame and that was that.

A part of me felt relieved. But another part, a more negative, self-deprecating part still felt the need to hold onto that guilt, letting it sink into the pit of my stomach. I should still apologize to Nagisa. Even it's unnecessary because it would be the right thing to do. I don't want to accidentally alienate one of my fellow club members and classmates. It would be best to clear up any misunderstandings before they can start.

I picked up the few remaining items that were mine and slipped them into my bookbag. The club form that Ms. Amakata had given me had been filled out and was lying face down on the towel near Kou. The redhead paused in the process of straightening up some spare papers from the boys' training regimens, mistaking my club form for one of hers, and adding it to her pile. I was too preoccupied with trying to get my copy of  _The Shadow Over Innsmouth_  out from under my chemistry textbook to notice this, so when I looked up the form was gone.

"Hey," I started digging through my bookbag again, "have you seen my club form?"

Kou frowned, working on getting the stack of papers in her hands into some semblance of order. "No," she said. "Did you lose it?"

"I thought I laid it down right here." I pointed to an area on the towel.

"Maybe I picked it up," she said, then stopped her paper shuffling in order to flip one of the loose pages over. "Oh, wait—Is this it?" She held up the page for me to see.

"Yep," I took it from her with a smile; my eyes scanning over it again. There was an area on the form that asked for my preferred stroke that I had left blank because I wasn't quite sure how to answer. The only swimming stroke I knew about was breaststroke and that was only because the only professional swimmer I knew about was Michael Phelps and that was his preferred stroke. But I didn't know what a breaststroke was or what it's supposed to look like. (I suppose if I had been paying more attention to the boys during practice, especially to Nagisa, I would've learned very quickly what it was as I later learned that that was Nagisa preferred stroke too.) But for now, I figured it wouldn't hurt to leave that part blank.

While Kou folded up the towel, I started over to Ms. Amakata to hand her my form. However on the way there, I was stopped, or more distracted, by a poster Coach Sasabe was hanging up in the window of the observation area.

"This poster is for…"

I jumped, startled by the sudden voice over my shoulder. I hadn't realized Ryugazaki was there and had been reading the poster over my shoulder.

"What is it?" I wondered looking at it as well.

Sasabe overheard us and spun around proudly, brandishing another smaller poster in our faces. "Oh! This is the poster for the grand opening," he said gaining the attention of the other boys just returning in their uniforms.

" _Sprashu Fes_?" Makoto raised his brow incredulously.

"It's spelled wrong," Ryugazaki said. It was in fact spelled horribly in an eclectic mix of English letters and Japanese kanji. Yet somehow I think it added to its charm. According to the posters, the swim club wasn't officially opening until a week from tomorrow; tomorrow being Saturday, and boasted various activities from a variety of swimming races with prizes to face-painting and raffles. Nagisa and Ryugazaki both seemed particularly interested in the  _Suijutsu_  race.  _Suijutsu,_ from what Nagisa explained, was the style of swimming used by Japanese  _samurai_ during the feudal era. And Nagisa was very interested in Japanese history it seemed.

Coach Sasabe asked the lot of us to help with the advertising of this big event by hanging up posters around town on our way home. Makoto suggested that it would be faster if we all split up into groups of two. Coincidentally, I was paired up with Nagisa again.

This would've been the perfect opportunity for me to clear the air between us. Since what happened before, things had been rather tense. I couldn't tell if it was caused by a sense of embarrassment or remorse or something else entirely, but Nagisa had been uncommonly quiet while we busied ourselves with hanging up the posters on various telephone poles and advertisement spots. I feared that I had done more harm than I originally suspected because he scarcely looked in my direction, except to ask for another piece of tape.

My thoughts were too preoccupied with how to break this uncomfortable atmosphere between us and what exactly I should say when I did, that I didn't notice the dwindling pile of posters until they were completely gone. Makoto had told us all to meet up at the pier when he had finished in order to make plans for tomorrow and to help brainstorm some ideas for the main event of Swim Club's grand-opening. Nagisa had just started to head in that way, when I had finally worked up my courage to confront the elephant in the room, placing my hand on his arm to gain his attention.

"N-Nagisa-kun," I began stumbling over my words briefly, "I want to apologize for how I acted earlier. I wasn't angry with you and I'm deeply sorry if I did or said anything to upset you. It wasn't my intention."

The blond boy blinked down at me slowly. But I didn't look away from those soft pink irises of his, even though I desperately wanted to. The beat of silence had lasted only for a moment, but it somehow felt like centuries when Nagisa parted his lips and spoke. "I'm not upset," he said. "If anything I should be apologizing to you, Sadako-chan. I—uh—made you uncomfortable and—" He trailed off and sheepishly looked down at his shoes, scuffing the toe of one against the cement.

"It's okay," I said. "I know you were only kidding. There's no need for you to apologize, Nagisa-kun. Can we just put this whole thing behind us from now on?" I smiled in a way that I hoped was encouraging, if not a tad awkward, and grasped his larger hand in mine squeezing it reassuringly. "I like you Nagisa-kun and I think you're a very kind and warm person. I-I like hanging out with you, so I want to be your friend."

I felt my face feeling warm in spite of the nippy April air as I lost some confidence in myself. What was I saying?  _Gosh, this is embarrassing._  But Nagisa, having recovered his own confidence, beamed down at him with that sunny smile that made me feel all jittery and happy at the same time. His cheeks had a nice rosy complexion from the cold and I thought for a moment that he looked rather relieved before he swooped down and gave me a one-armed hug. "Sadako-chan," he laughed, "of course I'll be your friend. Best friends, no—Super best friends!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's chapter 4! This one is a doozy, being twice as long as the other chapters. I feel like it may have gotten a bit rambly in some spots, but that's okay because Sawako has a tendency to ramble, if not always out loud, at least in her head. I guess you could say that this is more like a Nagisa chapter. These first couple chapters it feels like I've been focusing more on Nagisa than the others, but the next chapter should start including some interactions with the other guys.
> 
> As always, thanks for all the favorites and follows. And as I said before this story doesn't have a real pairing yet as right now I'm just simply building friendships, so I'm totally open with including any pairings you guys might think would be good. Just leave any thoughts, suggestions, critiques in the comments.


	5. Out of Her Comfort Zone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sawako and the swim club go to the mall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally finished with Chapter 5! Whoop! This one ended up a whole lot longer than I expected. I kept changing my mind about the scenes, but I really like how it turned out in the end. Thanks for all the new follows and favorites guys! As always leave any thoughts or critiques in the comments. The pairing for this fic is still very much up in the air, so if there's any particular pairing you want to see leave it in the comments too.
> 
> Also at the end of the chapter, I've included some fanart too. So check that out.

By the time I arrived home it was already a quarter to six in the evening. I don't know how so much time had passed, but after Nagisa and I met up again with the others we ended up hanging out for at least another forty-five minutes before I decided I had to head home. Walking up the footpath to the house, I found myself feeling a combination of excited and worn out, even though I hadn't done any swimming. I guess I just wasn't used to the high energy of a large group of people and being an introvert, I wanted nothing more than to throw on my comfy sweatpants and curl up in bed with some coffee, instant-ramen, and Netflix.

The house that my dad owned was really more of a cottage than a house. Small but homey. He had bought as a vacation home in order to get away from the fast-paced city life of Tokyo. Because he was a musician, a fairly well-known musician and front man of a popular Japanese heavy metal band, his home base was in downtown Tokyo near the recording studio. But Dad wanted away from all of that, away from work, from the noise—a place where he could write and compose new music in peace. An oasis if you will, which he just so happened to find in the little seaside town of Iwatobi. It was an old place, built on a hill overlooking the ocean, but he had made several renovations over the years adding a third bedroom/recording studio and updating all the appliances. Last spring our neighbor, Mrs. Koyanagi, had given us a bunch of tulip bulbs to plant in the flower bed by the front stoop and the green stalks had already sprung up again this year blooming in beautiful golden yellow.

I stopped to admire one, taking one of its green leaves in my hand and examining it. Because of the recent rain this week, they weren't looking as limp as before. That was good. Means I don't have to worry about watering them in the afternoon. Standing up, I continued my way up to the front door. Finding my house keys was a lot easier now since I had attached that mini Iwa-chan keychain to my keyring and I easily pulled them out of my bag and unlocked the front door, pushing it open.

I barely even cracked the door before a loud siren wailed in my ears. Covering my ears, I rushed into the entryway stumbling over a pair of sneakers.

"Dad? Dad? What is that?" I dropped my school bag by the door as I looked around wildly for the source of the noise. Dad came round the corner from the kitchen with a broom in hand, wielding it much like a baseball bat. "Oh god—" I yelled out startled ducking instinctively.

He saw me and his expression changed from alarmed to chiding, dropping the broom down to his side. "You're late," he yelled.

"I got held up with a school thing!"

"And you lost your phone?"

"No—"

"Because you must've if you didn't call!"

"Are we seriously discussing this during the air raid?" I screamed.

"You're right!" He pushed past me to a white box on the wall that I hadn't noticed before, flipping up the lid cover, punching in numbered sequence on the keypad. The siren immediately cut out like the volume being muted on the TV.

"Oh thank god," I said dropping my hands to my side. "What is that?"

"It's the alarm."

"What alarm?"

"Our alarm."

"Since when do we have an alarm?" I asked.

"Since I installed it this morning," he said.

"And why do you have a broom? What were you going to shoo away a burglar like a common field mouse?"

He turned to me with a deadpan expression that was typical of my Dad and said, "If I had to."

Like I said before my Dad, Keijirou Akamatsu, was of relatively shorter height than the average Japanese man. But he was stockier and broader than most too. There was no doubt in my mind that he could've caused a lot of damage with only a broom if he had to. Many people found him a little intimidating and I could understand why because he had this habit of remaining silent and letting people talk themselves into an early grave. It's not necessarily something he means to do, like me and my inability to fake a smile, but Dad is just naturally very introverted. He doesn't like wasting time talking to people if he doesn't have to because there are about a hundred other things he'd rather be doing. In this respect, he's the total opposite of my mom.

I toed off my shoes and followed Dad further into the house. "So is there any particular reason why you decided to install a security system?" I asked him as we both entered the kitchen. "I mean this is Iwatobi. The worst thing to ever happen here was when that owl assaulted Hosokawa-Obaa-san because it thought her hair was a nest."

"It's for my peace of mind," he said.

"Your peace of mind?" I frowned leaning up against the kitchen island. "Dad, you know I'm going to be okay by myself. Even if with you going on tour for three months—I'm not five, I can take care of myself without burning the house down."

"I know," he said. "That's why it's for  _my_  peace of mind, not yours."

That's another thing about Dad he was, is, extremely overprotective. Like if he could he'd put me in a bubble suit like John Travolta in that 1976 film  _Boy in the Plastic Bubble._  Which was why I was a tad reluctant to tell him that I had joined the swim club. Not because he would be worried I'd drown or something. But because I'd be the only girl swimmer in an otherwise all-male swim club. If there was anything that set off protective-dad-mode it was definitely me being around members of the opposite sex. Then again, I understood why that was the case considering Dad and Mom's history and how they had me when they were still in high school. For them, it was a very legitimate concern that I don't end up pregnant as unbelievable as I found it. With Dad, in particular, he was always warning me about how guys think saying things like "because I was a teenage boy I know". Mom, in contrast, was considerably less paranoid making jokes like "If you're gonna have a baby daddy make sure he's rich" or "A pill a day keeps the babies away" or broadway-esque renditions of Trojan Man commercials.

I knew they meant well. But sometimes it's just… I don't know. Too much, I guess. I love my parents, yet sometimes it almost seems like I'm nothing more than an obligation to them. Like a pet that they got stuck taking care of. It's like no matter what I'm never going to live down that I was a mistake in their eyes.

Whoa, that's too dark. I subtly shook my head to get rid of the increasingly negative thoughts, turning towards the pantry, I opened the door peering inside. "Do we have any more of that spicy ramen?" I asked not immediately seeing any on the baren shelves.

"No. We're out."

I let the pantry door closed and started for the fridge. "What about that pan of haupia? Any more of that left?" I frowned at the utter lack of food inside the refrigerator. Geeze, it was like the  _Grapes of Wrath_  in here. Not seeing the metal cake pan I chilled the Hawaiian pudding in yesterday, I closed the door and leaned against it. "Harrison Ford can fit in our fridge. We need to go grocery shopping," I said.

"We can go right now," he suggested. "But do you wanna grab dinner first?"

"Sure that sounds good. Pizza?"

"Harada says I need to cut back on the cholesterol," he said. "How 'bout Ichiyama?"

"Even better. Just give me five minutes, I gotta go change out of my uniform," I said and he nodded before I hurried out of the kitchen and up the stairs to my bedroom.

My bedroom was a mismatch of items from various points in my childhood. The bed, the dresser, and the desk had all been secondhand items we'd found at a various yard sales none of them matching so I had repainted them all a pretty teal blue. On my bed was a quilted blanket that I had sown from a collection of old band-T shirts I had found at thrift stores and a collection of stuff animals that I had been gifted and won out of those claw machines at the arcade. On my desk was littered a variety of papers, sketchbooks, pencils, brushes, and various other stationary supplies along with a stack of CDs pushed in the back corner behind the spare monitor screen I had pulled out of the garbage someplace; and my laptop buried somewhere underneath all of it. On top of my dresser was an old CD clock radio being used as a bookend along with a potted African violet. A single window was along one wall covered with these sheer jade curtains that reminded me of a kelp forest with how the light filtered through.

All in all my room was a collection of organized chaos. You could argue messy, but I preferred the term lived in. I knew where everything was and I kept everything clean if not somewhat cluttered. But I'm sure it would drive some people crazy with how seemingly disorganized it looked. I strode across the space, sliding the door shut behind me and unhooking my uniform skirt, the material falling to my ankles before I kicked it in the general direction of my hamper. Next to go was my blazer, sweater, button up, and tie each item falling near if not inside the plastic hamper. I wasted no time pulling out a comfy pair of light jeans and a long-sleeved blue sweater from my dresser, slipping them on, before grabbing another heavier beige jacket.

When I returned downstairs, Dad was waiting by the door with Prince excitedly wagging his tale. Prince was our two-year-old German shepherd dog my Dad had adopted to be my little brother of sorts. He was named after one Dad's favorite musicians, Prince Roger Nelson, and he was, as his namesake suggested, quite a singer during thunderstorms. I crouched down to slip on my shoes, scratching Prince behind the ears as I did so.

"Hello to you too," I cooed when he gave me a sloppy, wet kiss on the cheek. "Be good while we're gone and I'll bring you back a treat. You'd like that, huh?" Prince answered with a resounding bark and I stood up, patting him once more on the head, then following Dad silently out the door.

Restaurant Ichiyama was this little family-owned ramen shop a couple of blocks away from the house. We stopped by there often because the food was great and the owners, Mr. and Mrs. Kato, were old friends of my Dad. Mrs. Kato used to watch me when my Dad was busy in Tokyo and she often called to check up on me now that I'm usually left on my own for so long. They had a son named Kazuma that was several years older than me. I think he was married now or something living in Osaka while attending culinary school. It had been a long time since I'd seen him, but I remembered him acting like a big brother of sorts when I was little.

The smell of grilled meat and spices engulfed me as we stepped through the door. Heat from the kitchen made me comfortably warm, chasing away the rest of the evening chill from outside. Because it was past six, the restaurant was packed with the dinner crowd. I followed behind Dad to an empty table in view of the kitchen where I could see Mr. Kato bent over a hot stove. Mrs. Kato, meanwhile, was busy pulling waitressing duties, carrying trays of food from the kitchen to the customers and refilling drinks. She looked up suddenly, her gaze flickered to our table and she smiled in greeting while I waved back.

We looked over the menus at the table silently for a few minutes. Then having decided what he wanted, Dad set his down and fixed me with a somewhat level stare. "What school thing?" He asked.

"Huh?" I paused in my perusal of the spicy chicken ramen to look up at him.

"You said you had a school thing," he said.

"Oh. That's right. I—uh—joined a club at school," I told him plainly.

"Which one?"

"The swim club."

"Really?" He sounded pleasantly surprised as he expression flickered with some interest. "I didn't take you for the sports type."

"I'm not really. But swimming—it just sounded fun. It's not like it involves a lot of hand-eye-coordination so there's little chance of me messing up or hitting someone in the face by accident, I hope."

"I'm sure you'll do fine," he said.

This was the perfect opportunity to bring up my trip to the mall tomorrow. "Yeah. The other club members are all really nice, though. Tomorrow they invited me along to go to the mall," I said.

"That sounds like fun. Do you need any money? Who's all going?"

"No, I—uh— have money. I was going to pick up a new swimsuit while I was there since you know I left mine in—"

"Yeah," he nodded. "But who's going with you?"

"The swim club," I said somewhat vaguely.

Dad blinked at me slowly, seeming to catch on to something in my tone that told him something was up. He was always incredibly perceptive. It was impossible to try to get anything past him. His dark eyes zeroed in on my face and his lips pressed together briefly before he spoke again. "I know," he said. "But who specifically?"

I tried to look somewhat nonchalant as I spoke, reading over the menu again. "Tachibana Makoto, Nanase Haruka, Hazuki Nagisa, Ryugazaki Rei, Hanamura Chigusa, and Matsuoka Kou—well Gou technically, but she prefers Kou. She was the one who leant me those gym clothes yesterday and when I said that I needed to get a new swimsuit she offered to go with me," I said.

"I see. So it's an all-girl swim team," he remarked looking rather relieved at the information. I hesitated to correct him. This was easier for me, for him to assume just based on the names that Makoto, Haru, Nagisa, and Ryugazaki were all female. There was no reason I should correct him, right? Right. I mean, it would only stress him out and he'd jump to these crazy conclusions again. And if I neither confirm nor deny that statement, I can use that to hopefully get out of trouble later should he ever find out. Not that it was likely. I really couldn't see my Dad going out of his way to attend a swim game—or whatever it's called. He had about as little interest in sports as I did.

"Well, technically Hanamura-chan isn't in the swim club," I said. "But she's good friends with Kou who is the club manager. Ryugazaki and Hazuki are in my class and Nanase and Tachibana are the vice-captain and captain." I proceeded to tell him about how I met the swim club being careful to avoid pronouns and any honorifics that could lead him to guess genders and he listened attentively to the whole thing.

"I'm glad you're making some friends," he said after I had finished. "I was worried about you keeping to yourself so much."

My smile felted a tad forced as I nodded. "It's good to get outside my comfort zone. Besides who knows maybe I'll discover a new interest or something."

"Maybe," he agreed and turned his attention to Mrs. Kato as she headed over with a pen and pad to take our orders.

Mrs. Kato was a middle-aged woman in her mid-to-late forties, but she always insisted she was no older than thirty-two. Honestly, she didn't look much older than that and could've even passed as someone just out of university in the right lighting and makeup. However, I knew that she and her husband had at least a half decade on my dad as did most kids parents in my grade. (My parents often get mistaken for my older siblings by strangers. Especially my dad, who while thirty-four, had such a baby face that many people assumed he was still in university.) She had a particularly sweet disposition with gentle feminine features and droopy sea-green eyes. Her long, dark chocolate hair was twisted into a medium bun and secured at the back of her head with a black hair clip to keep it out of the food.

One summer, I remember, I had gotten a terrible flu and my Dad at the time had no clue how to take care of children, let alone sick ones. He had called Restaurant Ichiyama to order some chicken broth or something. I'm a bit fuzzy on the details; between a hundred and two fever and the delirium I don't remember much. But anyways, Mrs. Kato had answered the phone at the time and knew my dad from his regular visits to the ramen shop and when she heard that I was sick, she had promptly shown up at the house with a liter of chicken broth, medicine, and a twelve-year-old Kazuma carrying two bags of takeout. She then promptly went about showing my dad the proper way of nursing me back to health and from then on the Kato family sort of adopted Dad and I into the fold.

"Hey, haven't seen you guys in a couple days," she said removing her pen and pad from the pocket of her apron. "How are you?"

"Good. And you?" I answered for both of us.

"We're good too. Busy. But it's better to be busy than slow," she said. "Do you guys want the usual?"

"Yes, and coffee," my Dad added.

"Leave the pot," I said.

Mrs. Kato paused in her writing and fixed us with a rather disapproving look. "How many cups have you two had today?" She asked.

"None." We said, then after an arched brow from her amended, "Four or five."

She hummed and went back to her pad. "Okay, I'll bring you one cup of coffee each and half a grapefruit," she said.

"But I don't want a grapefruit," I said.

Mrs. Kato jabbed her pen at me, "No grapefruit, no coffee. It's too late for your father, but not for you."

"But—"

"No buts! And don't even think about hiding it in your purse like you did last time. I'm watching you." And with one final wave of her pen, she was off before I could sputter another word in protest.

Dad blinked at me slowly and said, "The service here has gotten worse."

"So much worse," I agreed.

* * *

Maybe this was a bad idea. No, it probably was.

I was overwhelmed by the racks upon racks of swimwear in front of me. This place is huge! Swimsuits of every possible size, color, and style hung on little hangers, so many of them that they blended together in a line of bright colors and monochrome patterns. The others had already begun flipping through them.

"What about this one?" Nagisa called out and I blanched at the mint green string bikini with little red strawberries.

"Oooh! That one's super cute!" Chigusa exclaimed excitedly.

Oh no. This was definitely a bad idea, I think. For the past thirty minutes or so, the swim club had been trying to helpfully suggest swimsuits for me to try on. It had started innocently enough, I suppose, with Makoto telling me what was and what wasn't allowed in competition: No bodysuits, no bikinis, nothing that goes past the shoulders or knees, and the material can't have any polyurethane. A spandex and nylon material is best for competitions, but he warned me that the material is very fragile and tends to stretch out after only a few uses so he advised me to find a polyester blend that contains spandex and nylon. Having said that, however, the rest of them then proceeded to suggest just about every other swimsuit that didn't fit that description.

They were being rather loud about it too. People were starting to look over here…

I hunker my shoulders down and tried to sink deeper into the baggy white sweater I wore. Right now I'm more than willing to buy a swimsuit just to get the hell out of here. Shopping isn't really my thing. Unless I'm shopping for books or, god forbid, art supplies then I can easily spend upwards of three or four hours looking over pens. I should've come here by myself. Or better yet, I should've ordered a swimsuit online in my pajamas. But those damn shipping fees—

Suddenly something brushed against my shoulder causing me to jump and whip my head around to see Haru holding up a swimsuit on a hanger. He held it out to me, his expression passive. "Here."

It was a simple one-piece style swimsuit with a solid black material and a koi fish printed in blue along the front of the body, its tail disappearing around to the back. The color blue was very similar to the color of Haru's eyes and I was immediately drawn to it. I was surprised actually because not only was it the first reasonable suggestion of the morning, but it was also something that I might've picked out for myself.

I glanced back at the others and saw Ryugazaki holding up two different swimsuits, both a garish neon pink and purple design, and debating which one was more beautiful with Kou. I know beauty is in the eye of the beholder...but I'm really beginning to question his definition of beautiful.

I didn't hesitate to take the swimsuit from Haru; mumbling a quiet 'thanks' as I headed for the women's changing rooms. Slipping into one, I breathe a sigh of relief to be away from the spotlight that the swim club had inadvertently shoved me into. They meant well, I knew, but honestly…I didn't like being the center of attention, nor was I remotely comfortable being so.

I needed to push myself past that. I think, sometimes I'm too quiet, too much of a loner sometimes and that's what intimidates people about me. If I was more like Nagisa, bubbly and smiley and laughing half the time, I think I'd have an easier time of meeting new people. But I was, for no better way of putting it, incredibly shy—too shy, I think—and that prevented me from opening up to people. I wanted to change that about myself and so I tried and with little success to push myself to be a more outgoing version of myself.

Changing out of my clothes, I squeezed myself into the swimsuit. It was a tighter fit than I was used to, hugging my body much more snuggly than any other recreational swimsuit I had worn before. Still, the material felt sturdy enough and it was soft and comfortable on my skin. No chaffing and it cupped what little breasts I had, pressing them down to make my silhouette more streamlined. The only thing I was slightly concerned with was that the legs were cut a little higher than I was used to and the back had this circular cutout above my butt that would make applying sunscreen rather challenging.

The mirrors weren't located inside the dressing rooms like they typical were in the States. So I poked my head out, spotting them across the aisle and Haru standing beside them, standing guard it seemed like a sentinel. I hadn't realized he'd come with me, so I was surprised and certainly a little embarrassed for him to see me dressed like this. Then again, I reasoned, if I ended up buying this swimsuit he and the others were going to see me in it sooner rather than later.

Furthermore, Haru didn't seem like the type to ogle girls. Actually, he didn't seem much interested in anything besides swimming and mackerel to be honest. But still, I was nervous. Sucking in a deep breath, I pushed the changing room door open the rest of the way and stepped out onto the cool tiled floor. Haru's eyes flickered over to me, scanning over me, appraising me his face perfectly blank.

"So what do you think?" I asked. It was frustrating that I couldn't read him. What was he thinking? How can he be so nonchalant?

"Good," was his one-word answer. Then when I didn't say anything back he asked, almost as an afterthought, "How does it fit?"

"It's a bit tighter than I'm used to," I tugged at one of the straps on my shoulder testing out of the stretchiness, "but Tachibana-sempai said that sports swimsuits usually are more form-fitting in order to reduce water resistance."

He nodded solemnly in agreement to that statement.

Walking forward, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. It didn't look bad. Actually, the swimsuit looked very nice with my skin tone. Sometimes brighter colors had a tendency to make me look washed out or worse bring out more of my ghostly complexion, but the bright blue koi was offset by the black so it wasn't too bad. I noticed Haru watching me through the reflection and nervously I looked away running my hands down my stomach and over the image of the koi.

"What made you suggest this one?" I asked him. "Was it the fish?"

He shook his head. "The color. You like blue," he said.

I paused, surprised again. How does he know that? "How do you know that?" I furrowed my brows, "Did I tell you that?"

He shook his head again. "You've been looking at my eyes since Thursday," he said.

Oh. I felt my face getting hot and looked down at my toes. So he did notice me staring. What am I saying? Of course, he noticed. I wasn't exactly being subtle about it. "I'm sorry, Nanase-sempai. I-I didn't mean to stare. I just—I think your eyes are really pretty," I said. "They remind me of the ocean."

I just so happened to glance up then and see the flicker of surprise on his face before he turned away letting his bangs shield his eyes. For a moment, I thought he looked almost flustered but when he looked back at me his expression was neutral again. "Are you going to buy it?" He asked.

"I don't know. I like it, but I think it might be a bit too revealing in the back." I turned to the side and pulled my long dark hair over my shoulder to examine the expanse of pale skin on display. Except for a small crisscrossed band near my shoulder blades, this swimsuit was almost entirely backless. I frowned thoughtfully and trailed my fingers down the small of my back. "I burn easily and this—It'll be kinda hard for me to get sunscreen here," I said.

"You could ask someone to help you," he suggested.

"That's true. But that seems like it'll be a hassle," I said.

"Then don't buy it. Wait for something you actually love," he told me.

"That's good advice. My mom says if you don't love something you don't wear it. It's usually in reference to shoes, particularly heels, but I think it could apply to a lot of things not just clothes." I tilted head and thought about it. "I mean with anything. If you don't love it, then why would you do it? Life's too short to waste it doing things you don't care about. But now I'm beginning to sound like a TEDx talk," I turned my head and cast a shy glance upwards. "Sorry, I'm babbling."

"It's fine," he said.

A beat of silence past between us. It would've been uncomfortable had it been anyone but Haru, but with the older senior I found that the silence had a more profound impact than anything he could've said. I may have been wrong, but it felt like as I looked up into those two deep pools of blue that we had reached a mutual understanding of sorts. Like we had realized, without having to say it, that we both saw the world through the same lens.

Geeze, that sounds crazy. Yep. There goes my imagination getting ahead of itself again.

I broke eye contact first, catching a glimpse of the rest of the swim club at the other end of the aisle carting a stack of swimsuits each. Oh, good lord no! I sucked in a breath and would've immediately tried to hightail it out of there, but Nagisa caught up to me before I had the chance.

"Sadako-chan, look what I found! Pineapples!" He held up a brightly patterned pineapple one-piece before his eyes settled on my swimsuit-clad figure. "Whoa! That's a cute swimsuit. You have good taste," he said.

I shifted awkwardly and tried to resist the urge to cross my arms and cover myself. "Actually, Nanase-sempai picked it out."

"Good choice, Haru-chan!" The blond gave Haru a thumbs up, whilst the other boy grumbled under his breath about the honorific. Then placing the pineapple swimsuit in my arms, he ushered me towards back towards the dressing room, "Here! Try this one on next," he said.

"...okay," I said casting one more look back at Haru, sending a silent message with my eyes for him to help get me out of here. But either it didn't work or he chose to ignore it as Nagisa and the rest of the swim club proceeded to have me try on every single swimsuit they had brought with them.

* * *

I was exhausted after the impromptu fashion show in the swimsuit store. Emotionally spent.

The whole excursion had been somewhat of a blur in my mind. After about the third swimsuit, I had lost all sense of embarrassment as one by one the others had thrown swimsuits at me. I think I might've even slipped into a fugue state at one point as there was this weird out-of-body experience where it felt like I was watching myself watch myself try on swimsuits. But after about an hour or so I was finally able to settle on a simple one piece with a blue and white kaleidoscope pattern on the front and black material on the sides and back. The straps were of medium thickness crisscrossing around to the back that was still relatively low-cut, but it didn't have any of those skin-baring cutouts. The swim cap and goggles, thank god, had only taken another five minutes to pick out and by that time it was mutually decided that we should all break for lunch at a local McDonalds.

What I need now is a nice, huge steaming cup of strong coffee. Coffee and hamburgers was probably a gross combination, but I honestly couldn't have cared less. I was low on caffeine, dammit, and I had a feeling that if I was going to survive another twenty minutes with Nagisa, then I was going to need a Big Gulp-sized americano.

That's not to say that I didn't like Nagisa. I did. It just found that in order for me to keep up with his high energy, I needed to be on a constant sugar rush. He was like the Energizer Bunny and I was Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh, we were two people who were essentially on opposites sides of the energy scale.

I collapsed in a booth towards the back of the restaurant with my tray of food. I wasn't sure of what I ordered beyond the large steaming McCafe coffee on my tray. It was some kind of sandwich or burger? Chicken maybe? I wasn't too focused on anything else besides the coffee and getting it into my mouth. It burnt my tongue, of course. However, I barely noticed it after years of drinking hot coffee right from the brewer.

"Tired?" Makoto smiled genially as he slid onto the seat across from me.

"I'm sorry. I don't—" I set my coffee down and fought back a yawn. "I don't mean for me to seem bored or anything. I'm not bored. I'm just a little worn out."

"Hey, it's okay," he said understandingly. "I get it. This group has a lot of energy. If you're not used to it, it's a bit draining." He went about unwrapping his burger and squirting an extra ketchup packet on his hamburger patty. "Anyways, I'm glad that you were able to find something you liked."

"Yeah, I am too. Thanks for all the advice, I probably would've been lost without it," I replied.

"I was happy to help." He smiled at me again before his attention was directed elsewhere. Makoto raised his hand up and waved, "Guys over here."

The rest of the group emerged from the line of customers to set their trays down at the table. It was quickly decided that one table didn't have enough space to accommodate the entire group, so another table was pulled over along with a couple of extra chairs. The first table was made up of me, Makoto, Haru, and Kou; with Kou sitting next to Makoto and Haru sitting beside me. Nagisa, Chigusa, and Ryugazaki occupied the other table.

Conversation flowed easily as our meals were consumed; the content of which involved a lot of light-hearted banter between Nagisa and Ryugazaki. But eventually, the topic of discussion zeroed in on swimming, in particular, the story of how the swim club had been re-established last year. It was a lengthy story and it suffered from both an overabundance of details and constant interjections so that it lacked the cohesiveness of an easy to follow narrative, so for that purpose, I'll summarize essentially what I was told for your sake reader.

From what I understood and remembered, the club had been started a year ago in the first—no, second—week of April. At that the time, the swim club had been officially disbanded for a couple years after a series of budget cuts implemented by the school board and as a result, the outdoor pool had been left unattended long enough for the place to become overgrown with weeds. In order to restart the club, it was negotiated with the school faculty-head that the members would have to restore the pool in lieu of hiring professionals and thereby only the cost of the materials was covered by the school.

A sneaky way to bypass child-labor laws, I thought.

Anyways after the pool was fixed up, Nagisa had somehow managed to poach Ryugazaki from the track and field club to become the fourth swimmer necessary for the club to join in the medley relay at prefectuals. What was a medley relay? I had no idea, but that wasn't important for me to grasp the rest of the story for a lot of it revolved around Kou's older brother, Rin-chan, and some existential crisis he had apparently been going through. (That was the reason Kou had joined as club manager and essentially why the swim club had even been restarted in order to get him on the right path.) It sounded like a lot of drama that could have easily been resolved if the lot of them had just sat down and talked it out. But I guess that wouldn't have made for a very interesting story. Tensions between the swim club and Kou's brother culminated at Regionals—and this is where things got very unclear—and Rin almost quit swimming altogether, but Haru had stepped in and reminded him of why he loved swimming, to begin with. Then there was something about a magic relay and the power of friendship…

I was very lost at this point. Basically how the story ended was that Ryugazaki gave up his place in the medley relay to let Rin swim with the guys, which because Rin was from a different school, resulted in an immediate disqualification despite the fact that they had won first place in their heat. (Side note: I don't know what a heat is either.) But it was all okay because Rin had found his passion for swimming again and they all became friends again?

I know. I don't get it either. I mean they lost out on the prize money—That's not the important thing here, but I mean it couldn't have hurt.

Nonetheless, I guess, it's really kind of a sweet story and if I had any doubt about these people characters before it's been totally extinguished by this story. To think they'd go that far for a childhood friend they hadn't had any contact within four years—I was amazed. And honestly, a little humbled by it. They were way beyond nice. They were the kind of friends you'd be lucky to find in a single lifetime.

"Anyways, that's how it happened," Makoto finished.

"That's some story," I said, then turning to Ryugazaki asked, "So you've really only been swimming for about a year?"

"Just about."

"That's really impressive. I mean that you've made that kind of progress in that short of time," I said.

Ryugazaki looked a bit taken aback by the compliment as I saw him adjust his glasses. "You think so?"

"Definitely." It was no easy task to learn a new skill. But Ryugazaki had. And not only that but he had managed to make it to regionals (which I considered the equivalent of State Championships in the US) after only a few months of practice. That is majorly impressive. "You must possess some natural aptitude for swimming," I mused.

Now, he really did look flustered as a rosy blush bloomed across his face. "N-No. Not at all," he said.

"Oh really? You don't think so?" I found that hard to believe.

"It's true, Sadako-chan," Nagisa agreed; cutting in, "when Rei-chan first joined he couldn't even swim in a straight line without sinking and even now he can't swim any other stroke but Butterfly."

"Even after I've memorized all the theories, I still sink like a rock if I try to swim a different stroke," Ryugazaki added forlornly.

That's really interesting. I wonder why that was? Perhaps, it was like Nagisa said and Ryugazaki really couldn't swim any other stroke. But something about what Ryugazaki said stood out to me. He said he'd memorized all the theories, so maybe it wasn't a matter of him not physically being able to do it. Maybe he was simply overthinking it. I really couldn't say. Growing up in Hawaii, swimming was something I had been doing for so long, long enough that I can't even remember how I learned to do it, that it seemed fairly simplistic in theory. But perhaps it was more complicated than I thought.

"Then maybe you just have a natural aptitude for Butterfly," I said attempting, and probably failing, to cheer him up. "That's still something to be proud of."

"She right," Makoto jumped in. "Butterfly is one of the hardest strokes to learn and you picked it up within a day. I'm sure with some more time and practice you'll be able to learn the other strokes as well."

"That's right, Rei-chan! You just gotta give it time," Nagisa nodded.

Ryugazaki smiled at Makoto and Nagisa nodding.

It was sweet how Makoto and Nagisa jumped to reassure him. They did a much better job than me, honestly.

"Umm, Sadako-chan, I'm curious," Chigusa started bringing my attention to her, "what is your experience with competitive swimming?"

"Besides that meme of Michael Phelps at the Olympics, none," I said.

"I saw that meme," Nagisa laughed.

"Oh, I just thought you were a swimmer since you've joined the swim club," she said. I can see why she assumed that. Honestly, part of me felt like I shouldn't have been offered or even allowed to join the club given my lack of knowledge and experience, so I couldn't argue with her there.

"I do swim. I just never done it competitively or anything. I used to go snorkeling and surfing and scuba diving a lot," I said.

"You scuba dive?" Kou sounded surprised as she leaned forward with interest. That quizzical look of interest in her eyes seemed to be mirrored on everyone else's faces as they stared at me. And I realized that this was really the longest I've ever spoken about myself. Up until this point my talks with the club had centered around them or swimming or, like with Nagisa, common interests in movies and such.

"I did. I haven't since I've moved here. The equipment is too expensive to rent and I don't have my diving buddy," I said. "But I took classes with my mom and I have my certification."

"That's really cool," Makoto remarked. "Where did you move from?"

"Um, Hawaii," I said.

"Hawaii?"

"You're American?!" Nagisa's voice boomed loudly causing me to wince as it drew the attention of the other patrons sitting closest to us.

"Sort of. It's complicated, I guess. I was originally born in Sapporo, but my mother was an American here for school and she took me back when I was only a couple months old. But I've always flown back to visit my father every summer since I was five," I said.

"So does that mean you speak English? Hawaiian?" Nagisa was excitedly leaning forward in his seat and I think it was only because Haru was separating us that he didn't crowd into my face. "What's your first language?"

"English is my first. Japanese is my second. And Hawaiian…" I trailed off as I thought about the Hawaiian-Pidgin-English that was commonly spoken amongst the locals. Very rarely would you ever meet someone who spoke fluent Hawaiian, even though up until the late-eighteen-hundreds it had been the official language of the islands, but after Hawaii's illegal occupation and the subsequent outlawing of the Hawaiian language for a time it had fallen into disuse and was now considered to be a rather rare language. "Not with any degree of fluency. Some words and phrases at most."

"I wouldn't have guessed it," Ryugazaki said. "Your Japanese is incredible."

"Oh, um thank you," I smiled.

"So what's Hawaii like?" Chigusa asked me.

"It's basically what you see on postcards," I told her. "I mean there's a lot of tourist from all over the world and you meet a lot of interesting people coming off of cruise ships or vacationing. The locals are all very friendly and refer to each other as family. There's a lot of informality there. The food is amazing, it's a mix of seven or eight different cultures so there's a lot of variety. But like any place, it has its downsides too. The cost of living is very high, Honolulu has some of the worst traffic jams in the country second only to L.A., there is a huge homeless camp on Oahu, and of course active volcanoes in a place where no one has volcano insurance. I guess everyone figures if it blows, they'll just end up like Pompeii so why bother. But I didn't live on the Big Island. I lived on Kauai so the biggest concern there was water erosion making the island smaller and not getting sued by Mark Zuckerberg. All in all, it's a great place to visit, but I don't recommend moving there."

I didn't realize it as I was speaking, but in retrospect that was probably the most I've spoken all in one go in like a year. I hadn't needed to really. No one really spoke to me and anyone I tried to speak to always ended up running away before I could even get a sentence out. That's not to say I couldn't or wouldn't speak though. I had to keep up with my mother after all and she has a quick wit and even greater breath control. But it must've come as quite a surprise for them to have me speak so much.

Chigusa blinked, seeming to be overwhelmed by the overabundance of information I had thrown at her, then after a moment a huge grin broke out over her face and she let out a loud peal of laughter. "Oh, my god—You're funny. You're r-really funny. Pompeii. Mark Zuckerberg…"

"I'm confused isn't Zuckerberg the facebook guy?" Ryugazaki asked. "Why is he suing people?"

"It's quote-unquote 'to create a home on the island, and help preserve wildlife and natural beauty'," I said. "Reality is he's forcing people out of their homes to prevent them from trespassing on his property. It's a whole big thing."

"That's horrible," Makoto frowned.

"Yeah," I agreed, "but that's Hawaii. It may be a paradise, but it's not idyllic."

"So you like it in Japan better I take it," Kou said.

"Umm, not exactly. I like them both about the same. It depends on the day," I answered. "Culturally they're both so different. It's like comparing apples and oranges."

They proceeded to ask me more question about Hawaii and Japan and the cultural differences between the two for the next fifteen or so minutes. Then as the hour neared two, Chigusa announced that she had to start heading home which prompted similar admissions from the rest of the group.

"Oh, but before I go can I get your number?" She took out her cell phone and handed it to me.

"Sure," I smiled as I typed it into the device. Then for good measure, I exchanged numbers with the rest of the swim club. Even Haru, despite not having his cell phone on him, had typed his number into my contacts telling me to send him a text later.

" _Thanks for today,"_  I texted them all in a group chat as I headed for the train station.

" _Ur w3lcom3 Sadako-chan." —Nagisa H._

" _We were happy to do it." —Makoto T._

" _We should totally do it again sometime just us girls." —Chigusa H._

" _Definitely." —Kou M._

" _Next time we should get mackerel pineapple pizza." —Haru N._

" _Eww… No Haru-chan." —Nagisa H._

" _Pineapple doesn't belong on pizza nor does it belong with mackerel." —Rei R._

" _You're welcome, Sadako-chan. I'll see you in class Monday." —Rei R._

" _Actually I like pineapple on pizza." —Sadako A._

" _See you Monday." —Sadako A._

" _Wut? Nooo!"—Nagisa H._

" _I'm from Hawaii. We put pineapple on everything."—Sadako A._

* * *

Sawako Akamatsu ^


	6. Sawako Not Sadako

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nagisa and Rei learn Sawako's real name. Also, Makoto runs Sawako through the basics of competitive swimming.

The rest of Saturday passed by without incident. I spent the afternoon reading the first three chapters of  _Fires on the Plain_  by Ooka Shohei for my Japanese literature class. Then Sunday morning, I said goodbye to Dad as he headed back to Tokyo for the next two weeks and I spent the day cleaning, doing laundry, and watching Netflix while folding. I received a few texts from the swim club over that time where we debated the validity of pineapple pizza and whether or not people who liked it (a.k.a me and Haru) could be trusted with important decisions. It was eventually decided that a person's taste in pizza wasn't a good indicator of whether or not someone was rational enough to make decisions, but it was unanimously agreed upon that gluten-free crust was no better than cardboard. When Monday morning arrived, I met up with Nagisa and Ryugazaki in homeroom and we spent those first ten minutes before rollcall catching up in person.

"Are you ready for the quiz today?" Ryugazaki asked me.

"I think so. I just barely finished the required reading," I said.

Nagisa expression blanched. "Wait there's a quiz? When? Which subject?"

"First period," I said.

"Japanese literature. You remember Amakata-sensei said we were having a quiz on the first three chapters of  _Fires on the Plain_ ," The other boy told him.

The blond let out a horrified sound, halfway between a gasp and a silent scream and threw himself dramatically over his desk. "I didn't read any of it. What am I gonna do?"

Ryugazaki's reply was rather cold-hearted. "You should've studied instead of sending all those memes in the group chat."

"Rei-chan," Nagisa scowled up at him under his mop of wavy blond hair, "that's not helpful. I need real advice here."

"That is real advice," he argued back.

I felt sympathetic toward my blond classmate. I knew what it was like to be unprepared for a test. That inevitability of failure was one of the worst feelings ever. Quietly, I reached into my school bag and pulled out a binder that I kept my Japanese Lit notes in, thumbed through the pages until I came upon a couple pages that I had recorded a sort of overview of the reading, and placed them on Nagisa's desk. "Here," I said, "I took some notes on the reading. They aren't as detailed, but it's better than nothing."

Nagisa sat up and grasped the papers like a lifeline, looking up at me with almost misty eyes. "Sadako-chan…" He breathed that name in such a way that it sent a shiver up my spine and I felt my cheeks warming at that look of reverence on his face. "You're an angel."

"N-No I'm not," I sputtered. "J-Just hurry up and read the notes. You only got about seven minutes."

I turned away from him and sat at my desk, taking out my sketchbook and a 0.5-millimeter black gel pen and began to finish inking over the lines of a rough sketch that I had been doodling in the library that morning. The picture was of a woman or it was in the shape of a woman, more or less. Only the woman's eyes were actually visible to the viewer. The rest of her face was obscured, taken over, by a cluster of cameras. Cameras of all different kinds; polaroids and disposables and DSLRs and film cameras and even a couple old Hollywood film rolls. Her clothes were almost Elizabethan with very detailed cross-hatch design and a high ruffled collar that I could never remember the name of but had seen countless times in portraits from the middle ages. Above her hovered two dragonflies that I already inked in before class and they stood out starkly against the white page.

Behind me, I was vaguely aware of Nagisa and Ryugazaki exchanging a few more hurried quips before the blond shooed the other boy away saying that "You're distracting me, Rei-chan." Ryugazaki settled into the seat behind me and I felt his gaze on me, burning into the back of my head.

Curiously, I stopped inking and cocked my head to glance over my shoulder. I hadn't realized how close my classmate had been, he was practically hovering over my shoulder, leaning forward with interest as he watched my pen glide across the paper. Clearly, he hadn't expected me to turn around either, so when I did the boy flushed, adjusted his glasses, a scooted back. "S-Sorry," he sputtered, "I didn't—"

"It's okay," I said. "Do you wanna see?" I picked up the book up and placed it on his desk. "It's a work in progress—"

"It's beautiful."

Oh. I felt my heart jolt at the unexpected compliment. But it was how Ryugazaki was regarding the drawing that had me shifting uncomfortably in my seat. He looked with such interest, such amazement, as one would look at an oil painting by the Old Masters. It made me feel bare, naked like my very mind was laid out before him to study and pick apart. I had never quite liked people seeing unfinished work. It was too raw, too unrefined, more of a thought than an actual tangible thing. I feared that it showed too much of myself, honestly, of how my mind worked and I was never quite so comfortable giving someone that kind of glimpse into my soul. Maybe that sounds a tad melodramatic. It's not as if a person could read my thoughts just by a picture, but I knew that my feelings, my heart, was always infused within everything that I created. As was the case with all artists, I suppose. Whether it was art or music or writing or even cooking, every artist, every single one, sacrificed a piece of their soul to create.

"Did you draw this morning?" He asked me.

"Yes. In the library before class, "I told him.

"And it's all free-hand?"

"Yeah." I leaned forward and rested my forearm on the back of my chair. "Do you like art, Ryugazaki-kun?"

"Yeah," He nodded. "I like classical art like the impressionists."

"The impressionists are good," I said. "I always favored more surrealism or expressionism. But I also adore  _Yamato-e_."

"Do you study a lot of art history?"

"A little bit here and there," I said.

"It's really beautiful," he complimented again. "I could never do something like that."

"Sure you could," I said, "It just takes practice. Like with anything else. I'm positive if you could you learn swimming you could learn this too if you really wanted too."

"You think so?"

"Definitely. You just need to find the right teacher."

"Would you teach me?" The request caught me off guard and I faltered for a second too long. Ryugazaki noticed and his expression fell, "No, nevermind. I'm asking too much. You're probably busy—"

"I'm not—I mean, I would be happy to give you a few lessons to get you started," I said. "I've never had someone ask me that before. I have some great tutorial books I could lend you too if you want. We can make a plan sometime when you're free and I'll run you through the basics. There's a lot of technical stuff that I think you'd be really interested in. And of course, there's always Youtube too. I've found some great tutorials on there."

"You really don't mind?"

Honestly, the idea of teaching Ryugazaki about art made me kind of excited. Perhaps it was because I was really passionate about the subject matter or maybe it's because it was the first common ground I had stumbled upon with him. Up until now, Ryugazaki had been a little difficult for me to relate to. He wasn't too approachable, to be honest, and I might have thought at first that his clinical outlook on life was a bit difficult to comprehend. I really didn't think he'd be interested in art, although perhaps maybe I should've considering his fixation on beautiful things.

"No," I said then I smiled, "It sounds fun."

Ryugazaki's lips twitched upwards as he smiled back at me. He had a nice smile. Wider than I thought it would be and curved in a manner that made his expression come off as sweet and boyish.  _Is that a slight dimple in his left cheek?_  Oh, that's cute. I bet his face got pinched a lot by adoring grandmothers when he was little.

I'll admit that Ryugazaki had a relatively handsome-looking face. In fact, all the swim club boys in some manner were incredibly good looking. I'm sure that they were fairly popular with the female population on campus and probably had droves of admirers and secret fan clubs. I was willing to bet money on it; especially with Makoto whose genial manner and gentle smile came off as almost angelic most of the time. Lucky for me, I didn't harbor any romantic feelings towards any of them. I have a feeling if I did then it would make me a target of a lot of backlash and there would probably be a witch burning or something with girls holding pitchforks and Iwa-chan's head on a stick.

It kind of sounds like a  _Monty Python_  skit: " _If she weighs the same as a duck, that means she's made of wood. And therefore, a witch!"_  Pft...Oh my god—

"What's so funny?" Ryugazaki quirked his brows as I let out a short laugh. It was unexpected and rather loud and I quickly clammed a hand over my mouth to silence it. But it was too late. That image of me on a giant scale with the Iwatobi mascot's head was seared into my brain.

"I-It's nothing. I-I just remembered something funny," I said. "You kinda had to be there."

"...okay…"

Ryugazaki looked at me like I might be crazy. Honestly, I probably was just a little bit. Not many people would laugh imagining themselves in a witch trial. Man, I need to watch  _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_  again.

* * *

I was relieved when morning classes finally ended. Stretching out the stiffness in my fingers and legs, I breathed a tired sigh. Sitting for long periods of time sure was hell on your extremities. Unlike in American schools where you're given a short ten to fifteen-minute break in between periods as you switch between classrooms, Japanese schools don't have the students change classrooms throughout the day. Because of this, the classes tend to blur together in a haze of monotony that was only broken up when lunch rolled around and students were allowed a two-hour lunch break. There were a lot of differences between the Japanese and the American schooling systems, too many to list here I'm afraid, but this was just one of the changes that I wasn't quite sure that I liked. I flipped back and forth a lot. On one hand, I loved the long lunch break in the afternoon. But on the other, I missed the short walks during the day.

I began packing up my books and pens, slipping them into my school bag. As I was doing this, Nagisa bounded up to my seat waving around the notes that I had leant him. "Sadako, thanks for these," he said handing them back.

"Did they help?" I asked him.

He nodded. "Sure did. I think I got about half of them right."

"Nagisa that's still a failing grade," Ryugazaki pointed out.

"But it's way better than the zero I would've gotten," he said.

The other boy looked unconvinced of the blond's happy-go-lucky attitude. I'll admit I was a bit skeptical too. "You really should try to study more," I said. "You don't want to fall behind in class."

"But studying is so boring," he grimaced. "We're at school all day and then they give us loads of homework on top of that—it's unfair. We're young, we should be living our lives while we still can!"

I agreed with that, although I didn't say so out loud. I had been silently advocating to myself for years about the hypocrisy of the current education system. Ever since I was in second grade and I failed my first math test and I realized that the grade on the paper was only indicative of how good your memory is and not how intelligent you really were. As the years have gone by, I've just become more and more cynical on the subject. The purpose of school wasn't to educate, it was to get you into a good college and college was to get you into a good job. That's it. They were businesses not a means for higher education. But I'm digressing.

"But what you do now could affect your future," Ryugazaki started in on a speech that I had heard, and Nagisa had heard, and I'm sure everyone has heard at some point or other. I knew the speech, I memorized the speech, and I had no desire to hear it again so instinctively I turned away shuffling those notes into my bookbag as well.

"Oh! Sadako-chan, you dropped something," Nagisa said suddenly, almost hurriedly, bending down to snatch up a piece of paper that had unknowingly slipped out of my bag. I think a part of him was just trying to get out of the thorough scolding Ryugazaki had been giving him and so he had jumped at the first opportunity.

"Thank you," I glanced up and smiled moving to take the page from him, but something in his expression stopped me.

His blond brows furrowed together, soft coral irises intent on the paper as he read something off the corner of the page. Then fixing me with a quizzical look he tilted his head and asked, "Sawako?"

"Y-Yes?" I said.

Now, Ryugazaki was interested he leaned over Nagisa's shoulder to read the page. "What is it?" I knew instantly when his eyes settled on what had first caught Nagisa's attention. He too frowned, his brows wrinkling together, then fixed me with the same perplexed look as Nagisa. Nagisa turned the page around and I saw what they were reading over was my club application form. "Your name is Sawako? Why didn't you say anything?"

"...Uh," I paused unsure of how to answer. "I didn't mean to hide it from you two or anything. It's just the longer it went on the more awkward it got to correct you so…"

"You didn't," Nagisa finished. "But we've been calling you by the wrong name for like a week. That didn't bother you?"

"No—I mean, not really. Everyone calls me that."

"Everyone?" Ryugazaki repeated disbelievingly.

I nodded. "My name was misprinted on some of my entrance forms and it sort of caught on," I explained.

"So people assumed that was your name?"

"More or less. But it's fine—really," I tried to reassure them. "Nicknames are a common thing back in the States. And this isn't the worst one I've ever gotten."

"So you're not upset with us?"

I shook my head. "Not at all. You didn't know."

They looked unconvinced. "But—"

"Really it's fine," I said. "Besides it's kind of funny if you think about."

"How?" Nagisa and Ryugazaki looked confused which I thought was surprising.

"Well, look at me. I look like I should be crawling out of a well somewhere and attacking people through their television sets or appearing in the reflection of a mirror; it's only fitting that people would call me that."

Ryugazaki began to protest, "No—that's not...I mean you don't look like—"

"No, I do. And I get it. That's why it's funny because it's true," I said.

"But that's so harsh!" Nagisa looked like he was fighting back a smile while trying to maintain a more serious demeanor. It was sweet really. I knew that they were only trying to spare my feelings and they probably felt guilty for calling me by the wrong name. But I didn't need to be coddled or sheltered from things. I wasn't made of glass. I could handle it. Besides, if you hear something enough from strangers it's probably true and I saw no reason why I should try to deny it. After all, everyone has insecurities about their appearance, but you can't change it. I guess, maybe you could with plastic surgery, but I'd rather use that money for a trip to Greece or something.

"But accurate," I shrugged and laughed, taking the club form from Nagisa's hand. "Besides it makes dressing up for Halloween really easy. All I have to do is wear a white dress, keep my hair down, and I can pass for  _The Grudge_  or a character from at least a dozen classic horror films."

By now, Nagisa could no longer hold back and laughed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I-I don't mean to laugh, but... _pft—_ "

"Well, I don't think it's that funny," Ryugazaki said. "It's rude to make fun of a person's appearance."

"It is," I agreed with a shrug. "But I rather have people tell me to my face than whisper behind my back. Besides words only hurt you if you let them. Comments on something as superficial as looks aren't really worth my time. So I don't really care if you guys decide to keep calling me Sadako or Sawako. It makes no difference to me."

"I think Sadako-chan is a cute nickname," Nagisa said. "If you really don't mind me calling you that, that is."

If it was him? Never. I knew that Nasiga only had the best intentions at heart. Unlike some other people, who would use the name more as an insult, I trusted that Nagisa and the rest of the swim club would never be making fun of me for it.

"It's fine, Nagisa-kun," I said. "I actually forgot to turn this into Amakata-sensei the other day, so I'm gonna drop this off at the office."

"Do you want us to come with you?" Ryugazaki asked and I shook my head.

"You don't need to. It'll only take a few minutes, so I'll meet you guys at the roof."

"Alright, we can take your bento with us so you don't have to come back here," Nagisa offered.

"That'll be great. Thank you," I smiled and passed them my cloth-wrapped lunchbox. Then with another quick smile, I diverted paths from them and started for the teachers' room.

The teachers' room was hands down one of the nicest rooms in the school. Second only to the new multipurpose gym that had been renovated last year. It was also the warmest room in the building on chilly winter days as the collective heat from the teachers' small space heaters kept the space nice and toasty.

I slid open the door, mumbling a small "pardon me" as I entered. Then walking over to the receptionist's desk, I stood there for a few seconds while receptionist finished up a phone call.

The older woman reeled back in surprise when she noticed me her hand flying to her chest. "Oh  _kami,_ you scared me! My heart, don't sneak up on people like that."

"Sorry…" I felt a tad sheepish. I really hadn't meant to sneak up on her. But I had soft footsteps.

"What do you want?"

"Umm, I need to drop off this club application form. Where do I—"

"Oh, over there," she gestured to her hand toward the back wall where a small table and a series of wire baskets sat. "Just put it in the basket."

"Which basket?"

"That one on the far right," she said sounding mildly irritated.

"Okay, thank you." I tried to smile, but it fell flat within a few seconds. She must be having a bad day or something. Shuffling over to baskets, I placed my club form down on top of a dozen or so others.

Suddenly, the door to the teachers' room slammed open causing me to jump startled. "Fujioka-san, don't slam the door," the receptionist scolded.

The person in question stood curled into themselves with their hands on their knees and breathing heavily as if they had run all the way there. Which, I guess, was the case given the evidence. They had a wiry mop of dark curls cropped short around their ears and I would've thought they were a boy if it hadn't had been for the girls uniform. "D-Did the principle leave for lunch yet?"

"No, he has—"

"Yes!" The girl cheered and bounded forward waving a sheet of paper in her hands. "Then tell 'em I'm here. I got it!"

"Got what?"

"The staff adviser," she grinned. "Kokan-san agreed to be the staff adviser so there!" She slammed the paper down on the receptionist's desk with a look of triumph on her face. The receptionist picked up the form and peered at it critically from behind her black framed glasses.

"Kokan-san? The janitor?" The older woman looked up incredulously.

"Hey, you said that the staff adviser just had to be a member of the school faculty. The janitor counts!"

"Okay, well what is this? You have four members listed and one of them is your staff adviser?"

"You can't list your staff adviser as a member?" She asked.

"No, you need at least four students to found the club—"

"Kaori wait dammit!" The door slammed open again and the receptionist snapped.

"What did I say about slamming the door? Do you know what damage that does to the doors?"

"Sorry, ma'am," The boy had the presence of mind to look a bit sheepish and ducked his head in a small bow. Then turning to the girl he started scolding her for running off as she did. "I didn't say I was gonna be in the club," he said.

"Well, it doesn't matter now anyway. Apparently, we need to have four student members," she said.

"That's what I was trying to tell you."

"Look unless you can find four students who are interested in this club the principle will never approve it. So come back when you have—"

"Wait, what about her?"

"Who?"

That's a good question. Unless someone else had come through the door in the last thirty seconds, there were only four people in this room...Oh, wait— _Me?_  I looked over alarmed to see the girl, Kaori, staring me down with her dark green eyes. "She's joining the club," she said.

"Really?" The receptionist didn't sound like she believed it for one second.

"Yeah, we talked about it just last week," Kaori nodded sounding more sure of herself than she should've been. "Isn't that right, umm…?" She glanced down at the stack of club forms in the basket, catching sight of my name. "Akamatsu-chan?"

Umm, no. I've never talked to you in my life.

She moved to take a step towards me, but her friend, at least I think it was her friend, grabbed her by the collar of her uniform. "Don't try to force yourself on other people," he said.

"But Shin—"

"No." He turned to me with an apologetic look in his light blue eyes. He had light brown, almost blond, hair that was cut short around the sides and left long on top. It gave him a bit of a punk rock vibe and he looked half Japanese. In contrast, the girl had a dark poofy mop of curls that reminded me of a poodle and equally dark green eyes with a beauty mark above her lip. A quick glance at their blue ties told me that they were both third-year students. "Just leave it alone," he said.

"But Shin," she started to whine again turning away from me.

I took her distraction as the opportunity to slip out of there unnoticed. Man, that was weird. Never before I had been in a situation like that. I wonder what kind of club they were trying to start? Not like it matters to me, I wouldn't be joining it either way. But I have to admit I was curious. It didn't seem like the receptionist was too keen on dealing with those two third-years and from the sound of things it seemed like she had been dealing with them a lot. I have to say I don't envy her job.

"—ey! Hey, wait up!" My steps faltered slightly when I more felt than saw someone breeze up next to me. It was that third-year girl again. "Geeze, for someone so small you sure do move fast," she remarked. "I'm Fujioka, Kaori. You're Akamatsu, Sadako right?"

"Actually, it's Sawako," I corrected her.

"Oh, well you are the one they call the ghost, right?" I nodded. "Well, great! I got the right person then. I'd like to give you an exclusive offer to join our new club. It's tailor-made for you and if you join we'll throw in a voodoo doll and a set of Ginsu knives."

Voodoo dolls? Kitchen knives? Why does it sound like a witches' cooking club? "What kind of club is this?" I asked.

"A paranormal club. We'll be studying the occult and folklore from various countries. Kind of like those dorks in the History club, but cooler, edgier. You in?"

Ah, I was close. "Umm, no thank you. I'm already joining a club so I can't," I said.

"The swim club?" She asked. "I peeked at your club form. You're a swimmer?"

Ignoring the blatant invasion of privacy, I said, "Not yet. But I'm trying it out."

"Well, why don't you consider joining the paranormal club too? We're completely flexible. You don't even have to come in that much. It's basically just a bunch of extracurricular reading and the occasional demon summoning spell. But those only take place at night, and I've gotten the janitor Kokan-san to agree to unlock the clubroom. So don't worry, you can totally handle both. I'll just write your name on this club submission form as our secretary and you can—"

"Wait, wait, wait. I never agreed to that," I said stopping short and whirling on her. "Please, don't write my name on anything, Sempai."

"But you'd be perfect for us," she argued. "Think of how much of a draw having a actual physic would be. You'd be the Thing to our Addams Family, the Dr. Bombay to our Bewitched, the Salem to our Sabrina."

Did she just reduce me to a robotic cat puppet? And wait a minute, does she think I'm physic? No. That's not possible. Surely, no one would ever buy into that rumor. "I'm not physic," I said.

Kaori paused looking confused, then a look of understanding passed over her face. "Riiight. You're  _not_  physic," she winked at me.

"I'm not," I said again.

"You're not," she winked again.

"Don't wink."

"Who winked?"

I sighed. "I don't think you're getting it. That's just a rumor. I'm not physic. I don't believe in that stuff," I told her.

She reeled back as if I had slapped her. "You don't believe…?"

"I just read a lot of Stephen King books and watch a lot of Investigation Discovery Channel. That doesn't make me a necromancer or an exorcist or anything like that. I'm sorry, Sempai, but I'm not interested in being your mascot. So count me out, okay?"

I may have possibly stunned her a bit. But I didn't wait for her to regain her composure and started up the stairs. I only made it up the first flight, before I heard her call out, "So, I'll take that as a maybe then?"

I looked over the railing, down to her hopeful face, and inwardly groaned.

"I have to go," I said.

* * *

The smell of chlorine was strong standing by the poolside of Iwatobi SC Returns. I shivered against the cool air that breezed over my exposed skin, stretching out my arms and legs using the techniques that Ryugazaki and Nagisa had showed me as I watched the light reflect off the water in the pool. Haru, of course, was already swimming laps down lane number five and I idly studied his form as I waited for Makoto. He had volunteered to give me a brief overview on competitive swimming and the various rules and strokes and whatever else, but he was currently preoccupied with briefing Nagisa and Ryugazaki on today's training exercises with Kou.

There was something almost hypnotic about watching Haru swim. The way he deftly cut through the water, each arm propelling him forward, legs kicking splashing up water in his wake, and how effortlessly he controlled his breathing.  _Stroke-stroke-breath. Kick-kick-breath._ He looked so at home there as if he was born for simply the sake of being in the water. And I suppose that if anyone in this world could've been a merman in disguise, it was probably Haru. My attention flickered away from Haru as I caught my name passing from Makoto's lips.

"Akamatsu-chan are you ready?"

"Sure…" I didn't sound very confident or enthusiastic for that matter. I internally winced and started again. "I mean, I'm ready whenever you are, sempai." I had to tilt my head back at an uncomfortable angle to meet his eyeline and when I did he smiled softly down at me. I wondered if there was ever a time when he wasn't smiling? It was hard for me to picture. Even when he wasn't fully smiling, Makoto's eyes always seemed to be smiling at you.

"Okay. We'll let's start now," he said. "The first thing you need to know about competitive swimming is the strokes. They are four of them used in competition: the front crawl, the backstroke, the breaststroke, and butterfly. The front crawl is what Haru is swimming right now and it involves a hand-over-hand arm stroke whilst kicking your legs. The backstroke is my specialty and is fairly similar to the front crawl, except you're swimming on your back and your arms move in the opposite direction…" He demonstrated what he was describing with a few rotations of his arms.

"Oh? So it's like throwing underhand in softball," I observed.

"Yeah, kind of," he said before continuing on. "Then the breaststroke is what Nagisa is swimming right now. It involves an arm stroke where you bring your hands forward in a triangle and then you sweep the water back like you're opening a curtain. And notice how his kick is different from the front crawl in that his legs kick outwards like a frog. Hence why it's called the frog kick."

"That makes sense. So does that mean that Nanase-sempai is doing a flutter kick?" I asked remembering the term from last Friday.

"Yes, that's right. And then there's also the dolphin kick which is when you're underwater and you kick with both your legs at the same time like a—"

"Dolphin. I get it. And that's used at the beginning of a race, right?"

"Yes. When you first dive in, you're underwater for about fifteen meters and the dolphin kick helps to increase your speed," he told me. "And then finally, there's the butterfly stroke which is Rei's specialty. It's actually a variation on the breaststroke, but instead of the arm stroke for breaststroke, the motion is more like flapping your arms like a bird with the dolphin kick. It's the hardest stroke to learn for beginners because of the synchronous over-water recovery since both arms, the head, and part of the chest have to be lifted out of the water at the same time. But once you develop the right technique it's even faster than the front crawl."

It was a lot of information to take in, but Makoto explained it very well. Also watching the other club members as a reference really helped me visualize what he was telling me and understand the nuances of each stroke. He then went on to explain the basic rules of competition and the various names of the different events. They were all fairly self-explanatory: backstroke for backstroke, breaststroke for breaststroke, butterfly for butterfly, and freestyle for front crawl. There was also the medley races that involved all four strokes and could be swum individually or with a relay team. Once he finished explaining all this he asked if I had any questions.

"Yeah, why is it called a freestyle race instead of a front crawl race?" I wondered.

"Well, technically in a freestyle race you can swim any stroke that you want, however, most swimmers swim the front crawl because it's one of the simpler strokes and the fastest for competitions," he explained.

"Okay. That makes sense, I guess," I said.

"Do you have any other questions?"

I shook my head. "No, sempai. You're really good at explaining everything. I don't have any more questions."

"Alright then. Which stroke do you think you'd like to try first?"

I took a moment to think about it. The front crawl looked to be the easiest, I considered. It seemed relatively simple in concept and I was sure that I had all the elements of it down. I had swum it before now or at least some variation of it as the arm movements were quite similar to paddling on a surfboard. "I think maybe the front crawl would be easiest," I answered.

Makoto nodded and offered to teach me the proper form to which I readily agreed. The first lane was free for us to use, so I followed behind him, climbing off the edge of the pool and splashing into the water. I was struck again by the sheer height difference between us as I looked up at him. The water barely coming up past his navel, whilst my shoulders were completely submerged. But it had always been this way. I had always been too short. It wasn't until I was in high school that I could touch the bottom of a four and a half foot pool without needing to stand on my tiptoes to keep my head above water.

"So the first thing you need to do is stretch out your body parallel to the bottom of the pool," he told me. "Here, take my hands and I'll steady you."

I quickly adjusted my goggles over my eyes and went to do as he said; slipping my small hands into his and letting myself float on the surface of the water. His hands were so large and warm and they completely engulfed mine.

"Now kick your legs," he instructed. "Be careful not to bend your knees too much. Try to move your hips more."

"Like this?" I asked.

"Yeah that's it," he said. "Now to learn the breathing pattern you're gonna need to put your face in the water, three kicks and then turn your face to the side. It'll take you a second to get the rhythm down. A trick is to remember to breathe every one and a half cycles or every third arm recovery. Or what you can do is breath every other stroke, if you're more comfortable breathing on one side than the other."

I nodded and slowly turned so that my face was fully submerged in the water. Then I did as he said giving a few kicks of my legs before turning my head to my right and lifting my nose and mouth just above the waterline. Then I repeated the processes this time turning to my left.  _Right. Left. Right. Left. Kick. Kick. Kick—_

I did this until I felt fully comfortable with what I was doing before lifting my face out of the water to look up at him. "What's next?"

"That'd be the arm movements. You alternate from side to side, so while one arm is pulling you forward the other is recovering above the water," he let go of one of my hands while still keeping a firm grasp on my other. "Now try bringing this arm forward. That's it. Remember the arm sinks slightly lower than the palm of the hand. Keep it at a forty-five-degree angle with your thumb side towards the bottom. And now drag the water towards you, using your hand like a paddle. The resistance of the pull pushes the palm backward through the water underneath the body at the beginning and at the side of the body at the end of the push. This is also known as the S-curve—"

I did a couple of strokes with my left arm, then alternated with my right before Makoto suggested that I try swimming down the lane. He ducked under the divider between lanes one and two and gave me an encouraging smile as he pushed his wet hair out of his face.

 _Oh lordy. Wow._  Why do I feel like I'm all the sudden in a Calvin Klein ad? I gawked at him for a second too long, I know I did. But I couldn't help it. There was something about the way the light settled on his features, catching on the water droplets clinging to the strands of his air before dripping down the sides of his face, and down off the sharp curve of his jaw onto this collarbone, then down, down, down—I quickly averted my eyes, stopping myself from following the trail of water droplets any lower. I can't be standing here ogling my sempai and my club captain at that.

"Whenever you're ready," he said.

Shakily, I nodded at him before turning back towards the water. Can he tell I'm blushing? With my swim cap and goggles, I hoped he couldn't. But my face definitely felt warmer than before and I knew from experience that even the slightest blush showed up on my face. I sucked in a deep breath before I pushed off the bottom of the pool and surged forward down the lane.

My arms splayed out before me, slicing through the water with practiced ease, feet propelling me forward with each kick. I forgot how relaxing simply swimming could be. The way the water enveloped me, gliding across my skin, the steady beat of my heart in my ears and the pressure in my ears that muted out all the other sounds. It was quiet. Peaceful. For a moment the rest of the world had melted away and it was only me. Me and the water.

There was one time I had been snorkeling off of Waikoko reef. And I had dived under the water and did a barrel roll, looking up towards the surface of the ocean. The sunlight had filtered through the waves and had hit the reef below me illuminating the coral beds and schools of tropical fish and for a moment I felt—I don't know how to describe it. It was like being in a dream. I was suspended in time over that reef and it felt like I could've stayed there forever I was so at peace with where I was. Something about how I felt now reminded me of that feeling of serenity—

 _Ha—OUCH!_  I winced and came to an abrupt halt, popping my head out of the water as I massaged the crow of my head.

"A-Akamatsu-chan! Are you okay? Did you hit your head?" Makoto hurried over to me in concern.

"I'm okay. I'm okay," I coughed and ripped off my goggles. But really I wasn't. Still clutching the top of my head, I rested my flaming face against the lip of the pool. I couldn't believe I just did that. I had accidentally swum head-first into the wall. Talk about embarrassing.

"Are you sure?" Makoto's large hand settled on my shoulder turning me to face him. His expression became more worried when he noticed the salty tears at the corners of my eyes. He cradled my face in his palm, while his other brushed gently over the top of my head and the large bump that was beginning to form there. I hissed and gritted my teeth when he applied a little bit too much pressure to the spot. "I'm sorry," he said. "Here, let me get you an ice pack—"

"You really don't have to, sempai. I'll be alright. Just give me a second—"

"Nope. C'mon," and without any further ado he grabbed my waist and physically hoisted me out of the water, setting me down on the edge of the pool. I let out a startled yelp and braced myself against his broad shoulders, his skin warm under my palms. Then I flushed as I stared into his green eyes just realizing how much closer his face was to mine in the position. He let go of me, the climbed out of the pool beside me, before standing up and grabbing two towels from the shelves by the wall. He dried off quickly with one, then draped the other one over my shoulders before he helped me stand. Then he lead me over to a small bench underneath one of the observation windows and sat me down. "Wait here. I'll be right back," he said leaving before I could get another word in edgewise.

I wrapped my towel tighter around myself. How could I do something so stupid? I honestly believed that there was no way that I could hurt myself swimming, but of course, I underestimated my klutziness. Again. Out of all the people that ever took an interest in competitive swimming, I was sure that I was one of the only few to swim head-first into the wall at full-speed. What an idiot.

Makoto returned a few minutes later with a bag of ice wrapped in a hand towel. He took a seat beside me and placed it on top of my head. "Here is that better?" He asked.

I nodded, "Thank you."

We sat in silence for a while. I was still too embarrassed to say much of anything and Makoto was just quiet. My head was bent forward so that I couldn't see his expression, but even if I could I don't think I would've had the nerve to look him in the eye. Normally I didn't mind quiet, however this time the longer neither of us spoke the more nervous I started to become. I felt tongue-tied and Makoto's attentiveness wasn't helping matters at all, making me feel all jittery and slightly light-headed (although that may have been the result of a possible concussion).

"Do you feel better now?" He asked after a few minutes.

"Yes. Thank you," I said. "It doesn't hurt as much anymore."

"That's good."

"You don't have to sit here with me, sempai, if there's something else you need to be doing," I told him. "You've already taken enough time away from your training today. I'd be alright on my own."

I felt Makoto shift beside me, the material of his swimsuit brushing against my leg. "It's alright. I don't mind being here," he said. "You know, you were actually pretty fast before you crashed into a wall that is. Your form was really good and if you only paid more attention to the black line at the bottom, I think you could definitely compete."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh. I don't know how your diving is, but you could work on that, along with your turns, before the prelims in June then you could definitely qualify for at least the two-hundred-meter free," he said.

"I don't know about that. It doesn't seem like a lot of time," I said. It would only be what? Two months? I didn't think that there was much chance of me catching up enough to be in any type of competition. Truly, I wasn't the competitive-type nor was I really the athletic-type. I didn't have really great stamina nor muscle. The only thing I really had going for me was that I used to swim almost every day over a year ago, yet now I was woefully out of shape and I knew it. I really didn't believe that would be able to catch up in time. The amount of work I would have to put into this seemed daunting to my mind, but I suppose if Ryugazaki could do it, then maybe, just maybe, I could pull it off. Somehow?  _Hopefully?_

"It's not," Makoto agreed. "But we'd help you here at the club. And Gou, she's really good at developing train regimens. She'd definitely write one for you that would have in shape before the competition. Just have a little more faith in yourself. The mindset is half the battle."

"I suppose that's true," I said looking up at him.

If I had help, I could probably—No, I would probably pull it off. Especially with such a good teacher like Makoto. I'm sure that I would definitely do it. At least, I was determined that I would try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters seemed to be getting longer and longer as I keep writing them. But I suppose that's a good thing, right? Anyways I've been busy outlining this story and oh boy, is it going to be a major project on my part, shaping up to be at least 90+ chapters and I'm not even to season 3 yet. I only have the first 20 fully outlined at this point in time. And I also think I've managed to narrow down the potential love interests to either Rin, Makoto, Sousuke, or Kisumi at least according to my outline. Depending on how each chapter pans out in the future, I might end up changing the end couple. But as of now, it looks like Rin and Makoto are two major contenders with Sousuke and Kisumi playing more minor romantic roles.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this first chapter. I got this idea in my head because I was watching Free! and Kimi ni Todoke at the same time. And I thought to myself what if someone like Kuronuma Sawako was in Free! and one thing leads to another and this story idea was born. In a way, it's kind of a crossover as my Sawako is based on that character, although they're not exactly alike.
> 
> I'm not exactly sure where I'm going with this. I'm thinking about making it a possible Rin/OC story, but it could also turn into a Makoto/OC or a Nagisa/OC too. Until I decide what pairing I want to do, I'm just not going to put pairings. Nonetheless, I am open to suggestions so if you guys want a particular pairing you can put it in the reviews.
> 
> Please leave any thoughts, suggestions, or critiques in the comments. Constructive criticism is always encouraged and sought after by me.


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